Breakfast in the forest We awaken to the trumpet like blare of peacocks (an alternative to the more clichéd rooster), the rustling of...

THE LETTER “C” Cross legged and cozy in a corner of my closet, I compose and choreograph compelling encounters for the charming, cool and...

THE LETTER “M” Mortadella and Swiss cheese sandwiches distinguisehd that memorable summer of 1989 from all others. It was a time of manic...

THE LETTER “L” Long ago… a lifetime, actually, since I have thought about it. Seems so ludicrous now, but back then, this larger than...

When I was four, my mom and I went to Italy for summer vacation. We stayed in her small town for about one month. It was a typical quiet...

THE LETTER “T” Thin as a twig and touchingly pale; the timeless trademarks that elicit tenderness. Tirelessly she tried to come towards...

THE LETTER “G” Governing the night were: gritty interiors, grimy toilets, great music, gutsy performances, gargantuan gin and tonics,...