I imagine March 16, 1991 when ticker tape / announced hers first & last; that I began the reluctant task of dispensing the / surprise of death into my fifteen-year-old imagination.

I let go of the handle and slowly turned my head back at Pedro, to find thick melancholy already pouring out of his mouth in the form of a teenage love tale. What kind of person would interrupt a poor creature like this?

I will cook, clean, catch a bullet, and bring down the moon with more ease than I would hug Mother and tell her I love her. She must know that I do, right?

After all, the block’s a mix of old / and new and you never know what will return.

When they heard her idea, the others had all lobbied to go to a casino instead, to Vegas or maybe Reno, but Glory reminded them she needed to stay within a forty-minute drive of the hospital, so they grudgingly gave in to her choice.

I think it is crucial to my work that I see the joyful moments I have experienced during such a trying time. I believe my work often holds a bittersweet quality, but the paintings are nearly always about the good things in my life.