Yellow Butterfly From the third-floor French doors I watch a pair of yellow butterflies chase each other around a summer breeze and think to myself, one of them could be…
Perfect Day at the Lake Walk Run Bicycle Roller Blade Skateboard Three Miles Smooth Path Never smile Can't hear: birdsong breeze against leaves passing "hello" Warning! Strangers! Eyes only…
Sunday Morning Musings: But For The Grace of God It’s a mix of anticipation and dread I experience as I plan to visit my friend Katie* for the second time…
Flowers for her Granddaughter For her birthday, my friend Katie* wanted to send her granddaughter flowers and asked for my help, which I’m happy to give because Katie is somewhat…
Lessons in Overthinking, Undermining and Second-Guessing It’s how many books later? Twenty? And as I review the formatted eBook version I ask myself, Is this just stupid? Will readers think…
Joy left home at 18 with a boy her minister father didn’t approve of. Joy and Mike marry in Vegas and arrive in LA. Shortly thereafter Joy discovers she’s pregnant and before she gives birth Mike is killed in a motorcycle accident. Broke, pregnant and widowed, Joy calls home. Her father, Art, says, “You’ve made your bed. Now lie in it.” He hangs up on her.
In art we seem to perpetuate the stereotype of the weak female who can’t think for herself or one who isn’t willing to risk her own safety to save someone else.