Bad news is inescapable. If you're anything like me, you read daunting headlines with a sense of responsibility to speak up and out about the issues. But lately I've found myself wanting to stay silent, because there's no way I can talk about it all.
Life this July feels like the moment after placing the last piece of a puzzle. Countless hours spent finding the missing pieces, building around sides and corners until you get to the final slot and... it's complete. What next?
To this day I will never understand where I put my foot in it. What was so offensive about saying her bitterness wasn't mandatory and her sweetness was welcome?
What makes art worthy?
Not old measures of value
But pure emotion