The ego and effort of showing up as the ideal ancestor, galactic goddess and a divine being.

Dead men make many ashes. Learning how to handle my dead dad's remains.

Love can sometimes be a hate crime. Here is my story of turning a broken heart into art.

My constant companions are a vibrator and a dog.

How do you raise a pack of wild children while in poverty?

My father was one of the world's last "Good" men. He had his quirks and idiosyncrasies but a heart that heals as is evident in the writing.

This is a story of my soul's unwilling journey into a dark night after the death of my dad. I am accompanied by son, dogs and ancestors.

My mother is a tricky woman with a tricky disorder.  Bi-polar is an insidious affliction, I find that it is the gift that keeps on giving.

In my youth, bread baking was one of the family businesses and one which I guess you could say that the bread was our “bread and butter”.