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December 2, 2015

This summer I spent quite a bit of time reading the works of Maya Angelou. Last night, I was reminded of one of her poems: 

And Still I Rise 

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I’ll rise.


August 25, 2015

About five days ago I did something new for me. I moved across the country to good ol' Baltimore, Maryland to attend Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) to get my Master of Fine Art in Community Art. I just used the word art three times in one sentence. Oof. 


August 8, 2014

I wanted to write a letter to the tornado, but nothing is coming to mind and I don't have an address to sent it to. I guess we have that in common. Whenever someone asks me mine, I don't know what to give them. In the past nine months, I have lived in seven places. For...

April 10, 2014

Today I made a labyrinth, which to me is a metaphor for both life and community art. One part of it was made of the most beautifully colorful flowers and petals, all donated by local flower shops and grocery stores. In Alice Walker's newest poetry book, entitled The Wo...

December 12, 2013

If you are a dreamer, come in.
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer . . .
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire,
For we have some flax golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!

poem by Shel Silverstein

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December 2, 2015

December 12, 2013

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