As the daughter and granddaughter of war survivors, I reflect on war, its wake of post-traumatic rituals and indelible scars on the psyche, as a new war unfolds. Another war stubbornly heedless of the past.
I spent most of last weekend in a kitchen heavenly fragrant with dried fruits, cinnamon, vanilla, ginger, nutmeg, brandy and red wine. That magnificent aroma of the holiday season wafting richly from mulled wine, glistening fruitcakes, sugar cookies and spicy gingerbread. I also brought out my largest pot to make a large batch of treats…Read more Bittersweet
Part of me will always be suspended in disbelief. Dangling where there is no ground, no up or down, nothing more substantial than a mysterious ether. But I am not afraid. I am grateful. I know there are plenty of reasons to be worried, sorrowful, pessimistic. Plenty of tragedy, injustice and hate embedded, looming and…Read more Thankful
What are you afraid of? That they’ll see right through you? See through your farce? Your vain bid for importance? That no amount of effort will surmount the appraisal of your surface? Or insubstantialize your many failures and shortcomings? (In fact, make them all the more obvious.) That you will be deserving of neither attention…Read more Portrait of the Artist
I am not your negation, But you desire mine. My presence offends you in ways I cannot fathom, though I certainly feel your anger, rejection and disgust. I can do nothing to appease you, To calm your fears. Even when I apologize, You continue to yell at me, berate me, call me names. Honestly, I…Read more I Am Not Your Negation
My son was born healthy and strong. He had the softest brown hair, the smoothest rosy skin, his eyes were open and his button nose was turned up just a tiny bit. His perfect little form was rounded out by wrinkles and dimples. The pain of giving birth to him was so intense that I…Read more The Mirror of Love
If you’re reading this post, The Mirror of Hate, now in 2020 or later, I would like to thank you for looking at my past work. This post is very special to me. It is the first piece of my writing that was widely read, shared and commented on, which was a joyous and humbling…Read more The Mirror of Hate
"What do you mean by we?" These are the words of a favorite college professor. The question startled me, like an abrupt slap in an otherwise pleasant conversation. I couldn't find the words to respond. At the time, I had been a very enthusiastic student. I attended university like Darwin the Galapagos. Out on my own for…Read more What Do You Mean by “We”?