She was desperate to remember… she was scared by the certainty that time would take with it the details of him that still lived in her mind, and that so much life would be reduced to a stupid photograph. Continue reading Little White Lie
Cuando teníamos seis años, Lidia existía. Continue reading Lidia
First I said nothing. Then, “Sure Ma, I’ll do it.” I waited a beat. “But don’t you think we will be suspicious, running out of here at two a.m., you in your robe, carrying a lung machine?” She didn’t think so. Continue reading Mama’s gonna buy you a mocking bird
This is a video conceptualization of the poem To My Wasted Eggs, written by Pamela L. Taylor, illustrated by artist Mira D’Souza. Video conceptualization by Iris Mónica Vargas. I found this beautiful poem while reading the journal JAMA. The poem, written by Pamela L. Taylor, PhD., is a powerful piece made even more so by the fact that it describes the reality of many women … Continue reading To My Wasted Eggs
On a facebook video, gone viral, of the afternoon, electric, a woman, age indecipherable, stood, moved to tears, atop a building, watching as people went by singing down on the streets of Viejo San Juan, painting themselves clear, into perfect focus, such that everybody anywhere in the world could see, could hear, the Pueblo that had found and seen itself, the one that had always ex- isted, and the power to exist with dignity that has always been ours. Continue reading The lady at the top of the building
