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  Best of Theme
 

Winter is a time of consciousness, of examining our feminine side, of learning to live at one with that nature and how our roles are affected through the choices we make. During the dark dreary months, we can be working on our ideas and developing a personal nurturing time. It is a time to look back not only on the past seasons but on the millennium itself and reflect upon our accomplishments while looking ahead to the coming years. Join our "Best of Theme" authors and artists as they explore our winter theme of self-awareness.

 
  Arts
 

A little something about this piece of art.

( Read on... )

 
  Fiction
 

"I lived with you for awhile when I was little," I say. " After Daddy had his fishing accident, when he was in the hospital. I learned to eat fresh peaches at your house, do you remember?"

Of course she doesn't, and I don't know why I thought I could jar loose a few cells in her crackled brain so that she would reminisce with me. It strikes me that Julia and I are going through this exercise just to make ourselves feel better about Mom. I start to cry.

( Read on... )

 
  Inspirations
 

As a young woman, I watched as she struggled to fill the hole in her soul...her fight against drug addiction and alcoholism. Yes, I stood by and observed in silence as her rage burst forward. I heard the crashing of glass as windows and dishes shattered under her force fueled by fear she couldn't recognize. I watched her lose her mind after a fatal car accident, then crept silently into her hidden soul when she was institutionalized.

( Read on... )

 
  Opinions
 

This experience, more than any other early experience I can remember, suggests the glimmerings of a kind of social awareness. And it demonstrates why popular characterizations of the 50's as a time of oblivious acceptance and Leave-It-to-Beaver complacency have never rung true for me.

( Read on... )

 
  Poetry
 

Shirley Temple went native yesterday.
It was the last thing I expected.
She had sat in the nude for many years,
because I lost her dress
and never found or replaced it.
With her stiff legs spread straight out,
wearing only that stupid, perfect smile,
she reminded me of how the police found
the corpse of Marilyn Monroe.

( Read on... )

 
 
 

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