The interview is still on.
And I see... BLUE SKIES... through the tears (pain?) in my eyes.
And I realize... I'm going home.
My grammy's phone is out. She lives uptown... but there's no telling if she was downtown.
This is an essay I wrote but never shared after *last* year's #ComingOutDay. I touched it up a little, but it's still very rough (I've learned a…
The following piece is a monologue I performed for "The Griot Show" last weekend: I get asked this question a lot: "Where are you from?"…
Copied from facebook (sorry, but it's something). One of the topics I was researching yesterday was sundive trajectories. It may be surprising, but…