Tell your story.

Our lives are a puzzle - made of so many different, odd shaped pieces. Those weird ones with the sharp angles, dark red or deep blue, that look more like someone else's bad dream than a piece of your puzzle.

It’s in the genes

Walking in Linda's back field in a pair of faded overalls and a wad of Red Man chewing tobacco in his cheek with a determined look on his face. Focused on the divining rods in his hands, he looked like a country preacher or moonshiner, serious in his business.

See you on the flipside Glynda!

When I was twelve or so, she is the person that realized I had a little bit of talent and no outlet – except for boys – and bought me my first set of paintbrushes and oil paints. I couldn’t find enough things to paint – nothing was safe, I painted EVERYTHING – even glass. She realized I needed more things to keep me busy – to keep me out of my mama’s hair and out of trouble – so she taught me Sherinschniette

An angel with dreadlocks

She was a tiny thing with bright hazel eyes the color of a lion's, and a mane of sunbleached dreadlocks. Not a drop of makeup on her tanned skin, but she seemed to glow.

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