the drug kept riding my / head until I slid past sane/
into the room out back with the shivery-silver hue/
we blackdanced there until I felt the heartbeat thrash onto my tongue…
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I’ve been here for five hundred years, she said in a whisper. I lay next to her, put my ear to her lips. Are you a vampire now? Yes, she said. Inconvenient, I said. How will you survive all this sun we get here in Dubai? She pressed her teeth on my arm, leaving a sizable bite mark on the skin. I’m hungry, she said and I pushed her away and ran to my room…
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My Mother Earth wisdom-centered interdisciplinary studio embodies the transformative power of art to build bridges between our private, collective, and planetary healing. As a climate artivist, I inspire
contemplation, dialogue and action to foster the shared health of people and planet. My practice reveals fractal connections between our micro and macro wellbeing while celebrating art’s essential role in both resistance and creation needed for climate just solutions….
Who Turned Fifty—WTF—during the Coronavirus Lockdown? Me. I was none the wiser. I blamed the Global Pandemic for my uppity uptick in heart palpy all-nighters, binging Tiger King and matching my paranoia with How To Get Away With Murder. This was my “come down” after faking we’ll-be-okay-ness each day in our John Stamos-less full house. Our elementary, middle and high school kids Zoom-schooled, snark-walked miles of hills and dales in lieu of team sports, saaang every word of Hamilton while gobbling mountains of strawberry cheesecake pancakes…
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They whistle before telling us a lie.
We’ve grown weary of Greats.
We’re almost dead, almost alive.
We wish for the energy to daydream.
Once a therapist scoffed when you said you think you might maybe you dunno…have an eating disorder? You said it as you usually did, in that nervous-smile shy and quiet way if you talk about hard things. And he, the therapist, the PhD, said, but look at you, look at that tiny waist!
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