Original Artwork with Adobe Photoshop — As you, my readers, no doubt are aware, I am not just a writer and poet. I am an artist and photographer as well. But, no one in my little family wants to be the subjects at whom I aim my camera — unless I’m shooting abstracts. …

Rosalynn Carter, Former First Lady Passes Away at Age 96 — ATLANTA (Nov. 19, 2023) — Former First Lady Rosalynn Carter, a passionate champion of mental health, caregiving, and women’s rights, passed away Sunday, Nov. 19, at 2:10 p.m. at her home in Plains, Georgia, at the age of 96. She died peacefully, with family by her side. Mrs. Carter was…

Is there a point… a deeper meaning to our gift-giving? Shouldn’t there be? — I don’t know if it was always the case, but I find I love the experience of giving. I love picking just the right gift, that, to me, seems to be the perfect something that person would love. …

Graphic Design and Fashion Illustration — For a time when I was studying Fashion Design in college, I was also studying calligraphy in art class. I loved working with all the different nib sizes — writing as art was right up my alley. Another time, I might turn my hand to calligraphy again and share that…

In the Hands of the Enemy — Captivity Dim glow-bars outlining the ceiling of the curved room cast the only light in a bleak concrete space. A raised platform jutted from the base of the wall furthest from the thick steel door. …

A Christmas story of tragic beauty and love beyond life — I have a penchant for what I call “beautiful tragedy” — it’s kind of my genre. My short paranormal romance novelette (The Dance Plays On…), for example, is “a delicately sad tale of transcendent love, a perfect kiss, and haunting, beautiful tragedy.” This Christmas short story is also a paranormal…

Mad Science — Dickhead, she recalled had knocked Colby from her arms when she was captured. The brute grunted and lurched awkwardly as she rammed her hip into his groin. He wrenched her arms back painfully. On her other side, Praedo helped to drag Yianelle through the yawning opening, into a brightly lit…

A sound poem on the inexorable suffering and terror of abandoning peace — It’s rarely those who launch a war who die in it. Peace… peace is a gentle voice in the screaming cacophony… Peace hardly stands a chance against the drums of war, the harbingers of death and destruction. Trigger warning: Images of trauma It’s the children who suffer most. Even if…

Inexorable — Yianelle, standing under the spigot, slid her now wet silken panties off and hung them on the valve handle. The water from the spigot came in only one setting — freezing cold. It felt like ice needles pelting down on her. Still, truth be told, Yianelle was glad to be…