Life was good.
Little did we know that things would get crazy. Both my children became addicts, only one survived.
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Communism & artists
An artist who sells in the commercial art market is a capitalist. Only artists who do not sell their work are true socialists, otherwise it...
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My Greatest Joy, my biggest failure On January 11, 1982, 9:00 a.m., in a room full of hippies, I gave birth to a beautiful boy, Chandis Ad... -
Adam Sun was my rock. He was a daily, joyous, presence. I miss his phone calls and his excited and cheerful personality. My son is dancing... -
Since the murder of my kitten, Lucky in 1966, I have been morbidly curious about death. In my dark bedroom I imagined laying in a coffin,...
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