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Sunday, October 6, 2024

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Frida Kahlo and My Left Leg by Emily Rapp Black

Frida Kahlo and My Left Leg is not a linear narrative, it circles back to loss--both Rapp Black and Kahlo are amputees--but the the loss here is not that simple.

Spotlight On Our Anonymous Authors

Pale Pink Robe

If it’s true that for daughters growing up in a patriarchal culture, there is a feeling of having to choose between being empowered and being loved, I had chosen the loneliness of empowerment. Mother wound: aisle five.

Working On It

I told him he should leave. When what I wanted so badly, what I would have given anything for would have been for him to say, I want to stay.

Hello, Dessert

Summer Solstice

Master of One

Courage

Fantasy and Sacrifice in the Anthropocene

Called “teru teru bozu” in Japanese, the dolls are representative of the age-old human desire spanning cultures around the world to control the environment.

When the Grieving is Done

Childhood Memory

The Only Girl’s Awakening

Waiting Room

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Delights...

Latest Reviews

Fantasy and Sacrifice in the Anthropocene

Called “teru teru bozu” in Japanese, the dolls are representative of the age-old human desire spanning cultures around the world to control the environment.

When the Grieving is Done

Childhood Memory

Health

My Japanese Handkerchief Masks

by Wendy Dodek During this pandemic my thoughts turn to Japan, a country where masks are part of daily life. Yet not so many years...

Resonant Imaging

The MRI room reminded me of the Chilean miners, trapped for days without light or contact with the “real” world, struggling to stay sane while facing off with death in a very small space.

My Dead Branches

I went to write again, but the high had left and the low had entered. Writing was no longer an escape from loneliness; it was accentuating it.

We Must End Period Poverty For All Women And Girls

Extending deeper for many women and girls, the crux of period poverty is caused by the long-standing cultural stigma that menstruating women are dirty.

Promises

After twelve hours of standing, gravity pulled blood into the veins of my feet, my ankles, my calves. I felt as if there were weights in my shoes––I was tired.
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Work-Life Balance

Hungry

I have spent so long trying to gauge my boss’s taste, making recommendations and edits based on what I think she wants to see, that I have no idea what to tell people when they ask me what I’m hungry for.
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Mindwebs

Intimacy

Smelly Make This Bed

Ripe: Flaunting My Desire

The Vigil

Nature

Waterfalls

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