Mona Lisa

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“Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa, men have named you… Is it only ’cause you’re lonely they have blamed you? For that Mona Lisa strangeness in your smile?” I got paid more than I expected. How often can an artist say that? … Continue reading

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Mrs. Rigsby

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In 4th grade, I got put in the dumb class. I guess I had it coming. I’d been a bad kid the year before. Stealing chalk from the teacher’s desk. Pushing another kid into the water fountain, and busting her … Continue reading

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The Holy Hour or Why I Hate Lewis Rukeyser

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I am riding on the L train, in winter, at night, with my sisters. A drunk man leans in too closely, sways unreliably, and slurs, “What’s your name?” My eldest sister answers, “Mary”. We always answer, “Mary”. None of us … Continue reading

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Who You Gonna Call?

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I miss Oprah. I know she’s still alive, but I miss her, like so many things, the way it used to be. Take my son, for example. When he was 3 years old, he wouldn’t give me a moments peace. … Continue reading

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Soul Food

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I turn the corner, and see the bright lights of a sign like the marquee of The Apollo Theater. “Sylvia’s”, it glows. Sylvia’s is not an entertainment venue. I know that. Every New Yorker knows that. Sylvia’s is a soul … Continue reading

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MetFridays: Clara

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Last night at the Met, I met Clara. MetFridays, they call it, “where old farts go to pick up chicks”, I add. Whatever. I’m a winner. I can tell my therapist, next Tuesday that I did that thing I talked … Continue reading

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The Prayer Plant

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I’m awoke from sleep by a knock at the front door. It’s the painters. I’m expecting them. I jump up from the futon, scramble for a bra, and open the door in my PJ’s and Ifro (Irish Afro). The painter … Continue reading

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The Beachcomber

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It’s the day before Thanksgiving. 76 degrees and sunny. I’m in St. Petersburg, Florida. Who knew? I love St. Pete. It’s like Portland, Oregon was in the 80’s. More hippie, than hipster. Super low key. Plus, St Pete is sunny … Continue reading

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The Art of Being Human

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The first thing you do is take your shoes off. Everybody knows that. I was at a Buddhist meditation center in New York City, attending my first session of The Courageous Journey, a PTSD support group. I had been swept … Continue reading

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Coinstar

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“Turn and face the strange
Turn and face the strain
Ch-ch-Changes” Continue reading

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