Read & Weep

Beauties and Beasts at MoPA

It was Rosa who suggested we check out the show. At first I was hesitant: I hadn’t been to MoPA in years, and the last few shows I’d seen had been all about the history of

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Tales from the Vineyard Part 3: Finally, a bit of vacation

After we returned home from the island, a few friends and family members joked that we probably needed a “vacation from our vacation.” To which I said, in a serious tone, “That was not a vacation.” Sure,

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Tales from the Vineyard Part 2: Exhibition Night

If you haven’t read Part 1 yet, what sort of demon are you? Because no human I know could overcome the call of chronology. Demon or not, I’m glad you’re here. Because with all the bright lights

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Tales from the Vineyard Part 1: The Film Premiere

This story begins long before we arrived on the island of Martha’s Vineyard for the world premiere of our latest film, a documentary about artist Heather Neill. Here’s the short version: Ten years ago, for my

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Death of a Darling

‘I don’t say goodbye, that’s all. I’ll just see you when you come back. It’s so much…easier. Ever since I was a little kid, because I was here all winter long and the summer people came,

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Queen Mother

After a few years of hemming and hawing, my mother suddenly announced she’d be retiring at the end of the month. This elicited the same question, over and over, from family and friends: “What are you

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Inner Fire Dragon (A Woman About to Turn 40)

I was a Bicentennial Baby, born a few months after the nation’s 200th birthday. Half a world away, 1976 held a different significance — it was the year of the Dragon, the only magical creature of

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Shut Up Already (Why I hate Supermarkets)

I have this tendency to fool myself into thinking my chronic anxiety is a ruse, something I claim hyperbolically for attention, like someone declaring she has OCD because she prefers a dirty-dish-free sink. When I mention

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An Aunting Expedition to SeaWorld (I TOUCHED a PENGUIN!)

Olivia, having not yet attained whatever age and height one must be to ride shotgun, had been relegated to the backseat. As we passed the first sign for SeaWorld, I heard a little gasp, and saw

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A New Stellar Order

I wrote this story about my awesome friend, Melissa Walter. There’s a an artistic universe squeezed into a little gallery space tucked between a residential home and a tattoo parlor on the eastern edge of North

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