Making clothing from transforming old bed sheets, shrunken pants and a spare shoe lace. Truly the sewing from masks coming in handy, this month.

Some nights I don blonde hair, the next I will mask as another. This time I might be so charming or a me I have yet to uncover. In the morning, I’ll be someone new: a better, more sensible me. She will dress smarter and speak much more eloquently. She’ll not forget the woman she was the night before – remembers her light with fondness, envies her playfulness in amour. They locked eyes for an mo...

There is a man who comes by my home sometimes, who I don’t know how to name.I watch him wander up the road,  turning slowly into turtle, trout, boar, and many more, Forcing his way through ten traps made of wicker and lure.Crack crack crackDrowning out the crickets. Strong strides slosh through wet thicket.Hunters eyes, long arms, gentle as a deer, but no fear. Flows on by the stones, unaware....

Looking back is easy,  to be afraid of the fear that lies ahead.We can lie forever here,  and look on our home,  and look on our bed.Looking down is easy,  but upwards, the realm is of the dove.We, too, can fly away,  if we fear not fear,  but look above.

This growth     This becoming I was sold      the lie           of butterfly change Metamorphoses        are calm             quiet                  predicable                       warmth in cocoon blankets But this         this raw                very human                         personal growth is messy         chaotic                 nonlinear                         ice and fire Will the ...

Planting needs,Sowing false seedsFeeding toxic beliefs,PleadsKeeping knees keen,For my self esteemCarving wallsTo cave inPeeling plasterShaving fibresthat don’t muster,Clutching debrisin a cluster,Catch me fallingOr flyingMy eyesdon’t lie, can’t denythe heightsI tryand climb fromFalls and gapsso tallI’ve been crawlingin the cracksfeeling the flawsof the floorAnd I tasteall that is castand cast...

I shoved my ego off a cliff.Plummeting toward the sea,it clawed at the wind,fighting to slow the descent to hell,but there was no stopping its demise.As it sank into the abyss,I felt a shift.Ego’s sweet kiss,a final farewell.I exhaled,briefly closing my eye'sbefore opening them to finda life unified.Do you call thatmurderorsuicide?

 Twenty years ago  I’m sitting on the couch in my living room  Eagerly waiting to turn five  I sit between my parents  Facing the television  Concentrating not on the screen  But on the VCR below  Gazing in anticipation at the luminescent green numbers on the display  Tonight, I will gain another year to my life  And like Cinderella, when the clock strikes midnight  I will be transformed out of...

“I’m molting!”“I’m molting!”Says the caterpillar.It sounds gleeful, but transformation is also tough and requires going into the dark.The dark is the world inside. Where all the bones are buried and some (maybe not-so-old) garbage festers.The thought of being trapped in a cave. Running in circles to get out and sometimes just stopping to weep on the floor.One day, there is a spark. Then another...