Jean Harlow: My Kind of Dame by Heather Babcock
Every Wednesday evening as a child, my mother would force me into an itchy, ugly brown polyester dress and thick woolen stockings and take me – kicking and screaming – to the local community center for my weekly Brownies meeting (for those not in the know, Brownies...
Van Gogh’s Irises Meet a Shrike in a Play by Ilona Martonfi
The Shrike “These hook-beaked songbirds with a raptor’s habits skewer their prey of small birds, lizards, and insects with thorns, the spikes on barbed-wire fences. This helps the shrike to tear the flesh into smaller, more conveniently sized fragments, and serves as...
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Mom
by A. S. Compton
Words, slow in coming, slow in thinking, slow in painting a worthwhile picture in the mind. Words, slaved over, loved deeply, churning, building, breaking and remaking. Hours...
by A. S. Compton
