Little Lark

Music should be your escape-   Missy Elliot India and I like to talk about the tattoos we want. I want a black Underwood typewriter. She wants an Arthur Rackham style illustration of a lark with a bandage around its wing. This seems fitting to me. I can’t remember a time when India didn’t sing….

Putting Out The Fire With Gasoline

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean. Maya Angelou When India’s admitted to the hospital in late April I understand instinctively she’ll be there a long time. (In fact, she stays forty-seven days.) The massive seizure she’s recuperating from has left her exhausted…

A Way Of Seeing

A lot of life is dealing with your curse, dealing with the cards you were given that aren’t so nice. Does it make you into a monster, or can you temper it in some way, or accept it and go in some other direction?—Wes Craven As a child I’d adored my maternal Grandma, who lived…

These Little Earthquakes

“Oh these little earthquakes. Here we go again. These little earthquakes. Doesn’t take much to rip us into pieces.”  Little Earthquakes, Tori Amos Usually I don’t allow myself to speculate whether India will grow out of her epilepsy or be cured. Nobody knows for certain. We don’t even have a real diagnosis. I figure astronomers know more…