The Sum of Our Givens

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Artwork by Author

Histories, Herstories. Their-stories, Ze-stories.

We all have a past. Some have left them behind, others carry it around like a present concern. Other’s don’t even know it’s there dictating every inch of their action.

My history is one that makes my friends, on a bad day, whisper to themselves: Iphios has it worse. I have for the longest time been the bench mark for a difficult and miserable life. While this is not the time for details, let me paint a quick picture with a few words: Parents separation, physical abuse, emotional abuse, poverty, mental illness, hunger, transient, and suicide. There was enough drama for us siblings to sell our story for a day-time drama. It was that intense. By 5th grade, I tried to end it. Continue reading →

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Are you an artist?

I am not a poet, but I write poetry. I am not an artist, but I do art.

Perfection was important in my home. Mediocrity in any form was shunned. We were raised with the right manners, able to hold the a knife ‘the proper way’ and keep our elbows off the table. We were never troublesome little children, we walk in a line, sat primly and never complained. Perfection.  With a father who did it all and a family that worshiped his brilliance, his children carried the burden of proving themselves worthy of his surname. Continue reading →