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All The Young Dudes, david bowie, Dispatch from the Diaspora, Drive in Saturday, Lazarus, Life on Mars, Rebel Rebel, Rock n Roll Suicide, Young Americans
bowie – is it any wonder?
The following post was also published on the Irish Times website as part of a collective tribute to David Bowie from Irish writers Julian Gough, Joseph O’Connor, Edna O’Brien, Roddy Doyle, Eimear McBride, Hugo Hamilton, John Kelly, John McAuliffe and many others – David Bowie: Irish Writers Pay Tribute It was just after one o’clock in the morning. On my bedside…
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Silent Nights – from Scotland to Sandy Hook.
December 14, 2012 Cold and lifeless, the bodies of twenty little children lie where they were gunned down that morning at Sandy Hook Elementary School. The crime scene, a day before, was a school. The medical examiner’s team begins its work through the night to make sure there are no mistakes, no shadow of doubt about the names of those children – 12…
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Art, Awesome Women, Breast Cancer Treatment, Breast Reconstruction, Culture of breast cancer, Feminism, Kellys Cellars, Mammograms, Mother Daughter Relationship, Nipple Tattoo, P.INK DAY 2013, Pink Ribbon Culture, Pink Ribbons, Pinkwashing, Sexism, Shopping, Themes of childhood, Tina Fey, Writers
A mastectomy by any other name . . .
NOTE: A version of this post appeared on October 20, 2013, as Breast Cancer Awareness Month was winding down. The pictures on this post offended someone so much that she or he reported them to Facebook and asked to have them removed. And I thought the cancer was the offensive thing. The story that follows is mine. I chose to share…
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Aging, Art, Children's Books, Coming of age, Death of parent, Education, Fatherless daughters, learning to drive, Memoir, Milestones, Mother Daughter Relationship, Mr. Jones, Poetry, Rituals, The Gone of You
just walk away – remembering her last first day of school
WALKING AWAY – Cecil Day Lewis It is eighteen years ago, almost to the day – A sunny day with leaves just turning, The touch-lines new-ruled – since I watched you play Your first game of football, then, like a satellite Wrenched from its orbit, go drifting away Behind a scatter of boys. I can see You walking away from…