My mother, an only child born and raised in Manhattan by poor but arts-loving parents, tried her best to instill an appreciation of culture in her own children. This was a strictly uphill battle. She used to sign us up for things against our will, such as the symphony usherette program in Utica, 20 miles … Continue reading Miniature Torta #3: "The Voyage of Life"
I walked into the Y this morning and saw an old friend at the other end of the room, next to the window, studying the instructions for a new machine. She lifted her hand and tucked her dark hair behind her ear. She looked young and fit. Happiness rushed through me at the sight of … Continue reading Miniature Torta #2: A nimbus-clouded voice