Write. To live. To breath.

Stories- in whatever shape they might come they make up who we are. As a first child in 40 years, I grew up with all sorts of stories, told to me by everyone, from my great-grand parents, to neighbors, about history, national and family, and magical stories of princes' going to advanture, and saving princesses.... Continue Reading →

why we read…we the book lovers that is…

Last week, we highlighted Ann Morgan’s amazing reading project, Postcards from my bookshelf. For each month in 2017, she’s selecting a book and mailing it to a reader somewhere in the world. Readers had much to say about Ann’s book-labor of love. Here are a handful of their responses. Ready for a custom domain, advanced […]... Continue Reading →

My. Love.

Of course I have been in love; my first love was probably my sister with whom I shared my mother's womb. Than my mother- who gave me her all from the moment she set her eyes on me. Of course I have been in love- looking after my brothers, cherishing my father and grandparents and... Continue Reading →

I want to know…

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream  of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for... Continue Reading →

More than a Body

she. her. she is always addressed by those words. Always reminded by words, eyes, whispers that she will never be safe. that there is no place that is safe. whether its's a holy place, or her father's house, whether she is hidden beneath a million veils or showing of her body. Because they always assume... Continue Reading →

He was a Love Poem

if looks can un-do me...than surely it will by your eyes. and if words can sweep me off my feet, surely no one says them more sweetly than you. thus: you see you have done both, and now i lay completely unwrapped, without solid ground beneath me... marveling and querying myself as I have never... Continue Reading →


"She saw him too late He saw her unexpectedly neither knew how the other felt Because they were both visiting their secret place." This was inspired by idea that you could visit a mermaid in a aquarium. However as I painted it, it become something more. It became a story about visiting secrete places. Not... Continue Reading →

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