For flowers, the path from seeds to sprouts to blooms to seeds and then debris, is the nature of their stories that never hold the promise of becoming. They push through the resistance of the soil and ever-changing weather as well as the possibility of being defeated…

It’s different reading in black and white and living in colorful frames. It’s different being bound for hope and stopping because it looks dissimilar. It’s different being in this moment and aligned with where time has stood still. It’s different needing the biggest…

Somewhere in yesterday’s air lives the voice of the unkindness that brings with it all that is gray, all that wasn’t, all that is regret and all that is war no matter where we roam. It uses sabotaging language to keep our bags overflowing.   It turns tries…

We are shaped by but not actually bound to the history that lingers with its pressure that we are not out of reach of the backstories that we endure every day in the poor lighting of old programming. And yet most of us are like this in our commitment to…

Our journeys hold both pain and beauty and within that duality is the opportunity for us to not only be a work of art in progress but also a masterpiece to be admired at the same time.    We can miss who different would have brought and we can celebrate…