collective voices
In the mornings at Baltimore School for the Arts, all the music students (150? 200?) gather in one of the recital rooms and sing. When my daughter shadowed there, this…
I made this.
The first time I saw the press-kit photo of Jimmy Page on the wall of the School of Rock, I was in love. Not with Jimmy, though his sloppy, many-layered…
hermommie and the order of the feedus
Today, my daughter, Hormonie, is thirteen. She may think January 6th, the Epiphany, is about her, but it’s all about me. Hermommie woke up looking like a Death Eater, the…
verklempt
photo by Steven ParkeMy daughter became a bat mitzvah a little over a week ago, and I can't find the words to describe how I feel about it: about our…
Broken
Bur first, an interview with the Ripstick Queen, two and a half years ago. Note: the helmet and wrist guards, the mother running beside the daughter to check for cars.It…
the order of the teen-ix (xii)
This is where it starts to get hairy, literally. On Wednesday, my eleven-year-old daughter became—whisper it—twelve. On Twelfth Night, the anniversary of my own epiphany, Serena Joy Utah Miller began…
stains
When the body, which is still breathing but is destined to be a body soon, lies there like a pile of clothes until he is gently turned over, when the…