I am a world of one participating in a universe of many. My bits and bobs are arranged as nonstandard, impractical commodities contemporaneous with being disposed as normative and utilitarian. My blends are not patently better or worse than are others’ initiatives. Any merit attached to my work derives from my deliberations being a seizable voice. One size never fit all and never will. At best, my declarations suit some persons, sometimes. Even so, few deeds delight me more than producing word assemblages. I am happiest when exercising my mind, videlicet, when storytelling.
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Granny Does It: A Rhetoric of Identity Vol. II
Gone is the era when writers sacrificed profits for principals. These days, most of what gets posted or printed is tripe. Ironically, vanished, too, is the span when writers sacrificed principles for profits. Today, even if authors play strumpets on Naked News, declare an eating disorder on LinkedIn, or snuff baby rabbits on YouTube, no one cares. Most audiences no longer even regale such acts as “performance art.”
Smiling and Nodding with Alacrity: A Mother’s Omnibus
Whistling for Salvation
Dreams are for Coloring Books: Midlife’s Marvels
We often get bogged down with assumptions about what we ought to receive in our relationships with people and with G-d. In learning how to weave together needs of others with our own, and in learning how to accept, rather than to fight against, the measures that G-d gives us, we grow personally, parentally, and professionally. We become happier, too.