A knife is drawn. Emboldened, voluptuous women lie near their conquered oppressor, and man’s “possessive gaze on the female forms” brings bloody retribution. So begins Wynnie Mynerva’s still unfolding story in New York City, leaving Peru, and picturing sexual liberation,…
Take a mud bath. Go deep sea fishing for blue marlin, yellowfin tuna, and wahoo. Saunter through verdant, volcanic hillsides teeming with banana, pineapple and hibiscus trees. It will then be time for relaxation and renewal, unparalleled views of the…
More than a fabled book title, these words powerfully resonate, transport us to a new realm, to freedom. They are a blueprint. An architectural drawing of sorts. A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf’s plea for liberation, takes us into interiors…
As the small ferry boat wound its way through the Adriatic Sea, a burst of laughter swept across the deck.“He jumped on her back, and they swam off together…it’s true…it really happened,” cried the burly, bearded man, looking towards the…
The “piano music” begins every morning at sunrise. Upholding the precepts of his father– a legacy that binds him to the land–this skilled musician leaves the modest stone house with his daughter Enrica. Followed by “Pippo,” one of five rescue…
Except for the camels sipping water, and the lizards scurrying in the sand, there was absolute silence. Night had fallen, and there was a silence I had never felt before, one that brings a life-changing reckoning. Now Time and Space…
It’s a continuing puzzle. One must anticipate the future, evaluate perspectives, master the placement of objects. As in all creativity, blunders and total failures are possible. Intuitive thinking is dicey. Painting canvases of the mind are always chance, risky, a…
Despite a lack of decorative objects, as well as three focal points : a large window on the right side, an opening giving onto a boudoir on the right background and a fireplace surmounted by a work of art, in…
They are huddled together, their slumped bodies and extended hands passionately dramatizing desperation, their collective nightmare. These immigrants are the forgotten, souls lost in a tense, highly-pitched political battle. Some have wandered through the Sahara carrying their infants. Others have…
Looking into her ruby-studded jewelry box, The Princess of Esmerlada gasped, and cried, “Where are my soutache earrings? My God! Where are my precious soutaches?” The royal attendants were equally shocked. Sewn with dreams, along with black strings, flower tassels,…
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