I should be working on a final term paper for my marketing class, but I feel like procrastinating. As I was "taking a little look at the internet" I got sucked into this weekend's edition of The New York Times Magazine and read this amazing article called The Problem With How We Treat Bipolar Disorder.... Continue Reading →
In the past few months, I've been rekindling a friendship with an old companion I had previously ignored for some time. Sitting in front of a blank page is my refuge, I cannot wait to return. My solitary friendship--writing prose, preferably alone, sometimes in silence other times with carefully curated playlists, allows me to feel... Continue Reading →
My favorite thing about Oakland its a place that is always misunderstood. A bit iconoclastic, a bit rebellious, of course sadly violent and always filled with diversity.
I've finally cleared a few things up with myself. Once and for all. Here, they are: 1. I am a mother. Nurturing, caring, strong. 2. I am an artist. Creative, intuitive, risk-taking. Simple, to the point, seemingly obvious. Yet I have struggled to carry the weight of both roles. Allow me the entitled pleasure to... Continue Reading →
Listening hard is a choice. At first, we open ourselves to hear everything. To use "big ears" and soak in all the noise. The trick is in the tuning. Exposing the clarity of crystal notes that break through the interference. To feel the warm hum of low frequency embracing us with forgiveness. The quiet descent of... Continue Reading →
Last night I took a big step into the realm of listening hard. I signed up for a writing workshop, something I have attempted in the past and have failed miserably. Failure meaning, getting upset, taking critique personally, crying, feeling unworthy, getting depressed and eventually giving up. But I always give it a go every... Continue Reading →