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.
Do wear the cobalt-blue floor-length gown to a formal party. No one else will. Others will be off in corners, bleating like sheep in a different version of the same little black dress. Saunter in like you own the place, sing your best karaoke version of You're No Good by Linda Rondstadt, then ...