Feel the static electricity in the air around you. Hear the deafening cacophony of the storm wail against you, shouting angrily at your rebellion. And ride.
As I meet the New Year and all the cultural messaging around self-discipline, I'm resolute in my own way: to preserve January as a sanctuary for reflection.
The lens through which our art is seen and studied can have a definite bias if, for example, our #MeToo stories are in the public forum.
I’ve been peeping my head out just to see if the world is sorta, kinda prepared for me, then retreating again... the truth is that I haven’t been ready.