Art on an Island

I have a few memories that I think I’ve stolen. I can’t quite remember if they are mine, in my actual memory, a dream, or a story I’ve heard from my cousins. A couple of them are haunting, and I feel just the memory of the memory is enough to have shaped my life in … More First Memory

During our early years, we are taught to crave sleep. I remember morning conversations with my high school acquaintances, “Hey. What’sup? How’s your day? How ya doin’?” And the answer is always, a pained yet resounding, “Tired.” I remember yawning at least thirty times an hour until about noon. Coffee wasn’t a thing for high-schoolers … More To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

       I remember walking into my first college art class. It was life drawing, which means that you must draw or paint a naked live model. The class was on one of the top floors of the Old Main building that I always called the castle because it was regal and historic. This … More There’s Something About Mary…