FINDING A MORNING FLOW
I never adopted a morning routine. I wake up, roll out of bed and unwillingly begin my day. I slowly move along a path that drags me throughout my space until I miraculously have on clothes, keys in hand and I’m walking out the door.
Read MoreLET’S GET READY TO BUMBLE
That’s me pictured above in a mesh bra with a side pony, rose gold necklace stack and computer glasses.
Read MorePOUR IT OUT
The grounding taste of the gin botanicals lubricate my tongue, melting into each taste bud like a kid’s rocky road ice cream cone on a summer’s day.
Read MoreGROWING AS A CREATIVE
Saying the words, “I am an artist” or “I am a writer” use to be hard for me to accept. They would linger on my subconscious, wafting about like a cool breeze on a blistering day.
Read MoreVOTE VOTE VOTE
My earliest memory of voting was with my mother. I distinctly remember standing in line (which was no small feat for my child-like demeanor) and waiting for our turn to squeeze into our partition.
Read MoreA NOTE OF COMPASSION
I was born into a society of racism, inequality and silent observers. I had to learn how to navigate through waves of white privilege and constantly make adjustments when necessary to maintain a sense of self, sanity and dignity.
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