Chocolate pecan pie sous-chef, Berkeley, CA.
Pancake hearts, made as antidote to Prop 8 hate, mid-campaign. After my mom died (now over fifteen years ago), I was thrust into that heightened state of awareness one has in the wake of the death of someone close. The world carries on as if nothing’s changed, except you’re rocked
What the man said, in 1978, not long before his assasination [with some gratuitous modern editorializing]: Without hope, not only [white] gays, but those [nongay] Blacks, and the Asians, and the disabled, the seniors — the “us’s — the “us’s” — without hope, the us’s give up. I know that you
In which I wince and engage in some self-referentiality, vis-a-vis the blog. For those who notice such things, or give them any thought (or read this blog in its direct form, and not in a feed reader) I figured I ought to point out the obvious: I’ve started running ads