The beauty of the Hebrew, the imposition of the commandment, and the laughter of the night, tie us together. I I forget everything; the picket lines, the ugly words, and the deep, searing, inner heartbreak of a people that have failed me.
I've imagined and caught slivers of miracles. But I want a full-blown miracle.
As an artist, I'm going nuts.
Everyone is the hero in their own story. But what about the stories other people tell?
Womanhood, and my struggle to contend with its many definitions and impressions on my life. Honest reflections on girlhood and growth, and the revolution of the sacred feminine.
The dishes will wait, they will always be there. Just put down your phone, walk away from your screen and start creating.
Valentine Shmalentine, where're my Devorah-hearts at?
Bad treatment brings challenge, adventure, and humor if you open your mind.
I inventoried, checked boxes, made graphs. It all adds up to nothing, zilch, nada.
