I woke with the lyrics of “Sometimes It Snows in April” running in my head, and marvelled over how Prince even wrote the soundtrack for our grief. Continue Reading →
This death isn’t news I can absorb, let alone accept. It is 2016. How on earth has flu dared fell our Prince? He bridges everything, personal and artistic, that I love. He was turning racial and gender and sexual and business and metaphysical paradigms on their head while most everyone was still drooling in their Wheaties. He is spirit of the body and body of the spirit and wit and wisdom and the most powerful extroverted introvert of all time. Continue Reading →
I wake with the sun. The air is as sweet as it ever gets in Brooklyn; the early morning, as gentle and warm. My permakitten creeps next to me on our fire escape and together we study the city, so pretty while it sleeps. And yet. I keep thinking about how easily sweet the air was in the country. How my sheets and nightclothes felt and smelled when I’d dried them in the sun rather than the laundromat. How I’d slept. Continue Reading →
I woke with the lyrics of “Sometimes It Snows in April” running in my head, and marvelled over how Prince even wrote the soundtrack for our grief. Continue Reading →
This death isn’t news I can absorb, let alone accept. It is 2016. How on earth has flu dared fell our Prince? He bridges everything, personal and artistic, that I love. He was turning racial and gender and sexual and business and metaphysical paradigms on their head while most everyone was still drooling in their Wheaties. He is spirit of the body and body of the spirit and wit and wisdom and the most powerful extroverted introvert of all time. Continue Reading →
I wake with the sun. The air is as sweet as it ever gets in Brooklyn; the early morning, as gentle and warm. My permakitten creeps next to me on our fire escape and together we study the city, so pretty while it sleeps. And yet. I keep thinking about how easily sweet the air was in the country. How my sheets and nightclothes felt and smelled when I’d dried them in the sun rather than the laundromat. How I’d slept. Continue Reading →