Loving Center Stage
Bombastically Flamboyant
Our paths rarely crossed, but when they did, I always walked away from the encounter entertained - but frazzled. We met years ago in a small café somewhere in Alphabet City, Manhattan. At that time, she introduced herself as Zofia. I am uncertain when she transitioned to Ottilie - an educated guess would be at some point during
Crinkled Paper and Tears
The Mystery Woman
Anticipating an impending storm, I linger inside an empty café and ask for another cup of green tea. My mind is racing. I can't capture a coherent thought. Memories of better days battle with present turmoil and future possibilities. All attempts to stop the revolving tape are useless - but I continue to try. Fortunately, a woman pacing
Dressed in Red
Confidence • Courage • Change
The carefree laughter leaves our home the instant the door closes behind Johnny. My mother swoops me up into her arms and whispers, "I'm sorry." I don't understand what's happening, but I sense overwhelming despair and begin to cry - I am eight years old.
A glass shatters, and I return to
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In-Between Dances
Entertaining at Her Private Table
As Aunt Esther and I approach the piano bar at the Daniel Boone Hotel in downtown Charleston, West Virginia, the music and laughter get increasingly louder. Then as always, she takes my hand, and together we sashay through the open doorway. Another exciting Thursday evening begins. Aunt Esther dances off into the
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An Unknown Future
Huddled in an Alcove
There was a time I would pass Noi almost daily as I walked along Changklan Road in Chiang Mai, Thailand. If she were not awkwardly lugging the colorful bags used to store the Hmong Hill Tribe textiles she would attempt to sell wherever she could, I would see her huddled in an abandoned alcove near Anusarn Market sleeping.
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Knocked Off Course
Striving To Get Back On Track
For many years I have been on a bumpy path. Being derailed numerous times since my hemorrhagic stroke in 2008 does not discourage me. I continue to maintain my objectives and slowly move forward. Keeping my eye on well-established goals and managing a tight and strenuous schedule is essential to regaining my former life.
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Entrapped: Self-Made Barriers
Peeling Off the Layers
I often wrestle with myself to select the most appropriate words to express a feeling. Once delivered, it is challenging to erase and replace. Even though I am uncertain of my choices, it becomes the branded truth for others. For this reason, in countless circumstances, I prefer to remain silent - my safety zone. Or is it my prison?
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Torn, Stained, and Weathered
I Caress Each Page
I stare at the door as it slowly shuts. Our worlds cease to be connected. I hear footsteps echo in the hallway and the elevator opens and closes. When did our love crumble? There does not need to be an answer - a slow, painless decline into nothingness. My mind flashes to the song "Nothing" from A Chorus Line: and like Morales, I feel
Broken and Alone
Living Inside Flashes of Hell
We exchange a few words before she stands and sluggishly walks to the marble arch for a skillful pause and then heads up Fifth Avenue. I remain seated on the fountain's ledge, my back facing the water as I observe the flamboyant crowd in the park: an authentic theater-in-the-round. There is never a dull moment in New York City. And I welcome the
A Precarious Stack
On the Verge of Toppling
Surrounded by numerous organic disc-shaped white porcelain chips, I carefully place one on top of the other using my left hand. Not only am I right-handed, but my entire left side is affected by my stroke in 2008. I am approaching thirteen years of living with a body that not only feels awkward but is also not functioning with the agility and
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