Love to my mother, pictured above, and her brother Terry. Love to THE mother. Aren't we all trying to just eat her up and become her, over and over again? Fathers, too. Good times.
A PIXEL IS the smallest item of information in an image. I must breathe them for hours a day. "High" might not be the right word, but I am an optimist. Thanks for reading.
FROM THE TOP OF MY HILL
I am the snake who is shedding her skin, and you are the boy who finds it amidst the dead leaves near the rosebush.
This blog is about nothing in particular. It's an experiment in modern smoke signaling.
I have always been a real journal-y type and so here I am at the intersection of public and private, vivid and dull, sacred and profane, seconds and lifetimes. I am respectful of it all, and open wide the throat to reflect it back.
I am a designer, a mother, and a fruit fly assassin. I am very much in love. I am sensitive to caffeine. I am committed to writing with abandon and taking a lot of photographs.
My print and web design portfolio is housed at 9-VOLT.com.
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