“Picture it. Sicily…” For anyone who grew up watching The Golden Girls, those three words probably came with a voice. Sophia Petrillo could transport an entire kitchen in Miami to Sicily with a story. There was usually a relative, a feud, a questionable decision and, somewhere along the way, food.
April 5, 1994 Mommy Died Last Night My mother's words. As I sit on the airplane bound for Atlanta, Georgia the day before my forty-fifth birthday, I reflect back ten weeks ago when I watched my beloved mother take her last breath in this life as Mamie.
What France, Ghana and Dubai taught me about comfort, difference and the range in between We spend a lot of time thinking about what we will pack when we travel. Clothes for the weather. Shoes for the itinerary. Toiletries, medications, chargers, passports and whatever else we have learned not to
It started with the whispers back and forth behind my back. As they moved, the necklaces and beads made a soft jingle. Two women elders conversed, trying to figure out if I “belonged.” One grabbed my hand and stared intently into my eyes before asking, “Are you one of us?
I recently attended a women’s speaking event created to give women the opportunity to share their stories, practice using their voices, and take a stepping stone toward larger platforms like TEDx. I sat in awe of the confidence it took for woman after woman to walk onto that stage,
I first met these animals in the middle of New York City. Not alive, but cast in bronze. Walking through the heart of Manhattan, I stumbled upon The Wild Couch Party by Gillie and Marc. Right among the city's historic buildings and bustling streets sat a lion, rhino,
The first thing you notice is the sound. Not the conversations between shoppers weaving through narrow aisles or the occasional negotiation between buyer and seller, but the steady rhythm of wood meeting steel. Chisels scrape against rough blocks of wood with practiced precision. Small curls fall to the ground, joining
Five days in Mexico reminded me that sometimes two places separated by only a short ferry ride can feel worlds apart. Cancún greeted me with exactly what I expected. Picture perfect turquoise water that looked so unreal it almost seemed edited, resorts humming with music from the pool, cocktails flowing,
The ferry ride to Isla Mujeres is short, but something shifts the moment you leave the mainland behind. Within minutes, the pace changes. The island moves a little slower, a little softer, inviting you to settle into its rhythm instead of rushing through it. Home to roughly 13,000 residents,