“The Door is Open” (Sligo Avenue, Silver Spring, Maryland)
I like how the plants on the windowsill are reflected in the mirror, as if in the darkened apartment, a jungle has stealthily started to overrun the living room. Or the moon has come down to play Peeping Tom, surprised the plants into revealing their true natures. What dramas unfold in that long moment between opening the door and turning on the first lights?
“Self portrait in bed with coffee after getting dressed” (Silver Spring, Maryland)
Today I look a lot like my mother. (Some days I look a lot like my father. And, surprisingly my youngest brother and I look a lot alike though we are half-siblings.) My mother’s friend has told me that I am the most like my mother. My sister says she is the most like my mother. What I know for sure is that my mother and I both think coffee is a comfort food (I’ve been drinking it since I was in single digits, using the instant that was always on the bottom shelf), and we both have a serious jones for jewelry.