One night, I broke down in the work bathroom. It was late and most people had gone home, so thankfully no one walked in. I wouldn’t blame anyone for crying in that bathroom, but I knew then that I had shrunk too much.
A deeper cut reveals a culture of psychopathy: a party sickened by its hatred, misogyny and xenophobia; grown too accustomed to deceit; blaming others for its missteps; compromised by a paralysis of ideas; resorting to character assassination and abject humiliation of perceived enemies; ...
I began exploring through poetry and photography how a once vibrant, creative, opinionated, fiery woman like myself could be reduced to breakfast cereal and oversized black sweaters. That project, Ghost Girl, saved my soul. Here is a piece of it.