Untitled Collage. Mixed medium on wood, 36"x36", 2012.
Untitled Collage
The subject line of my sister’s email to me on the anniversary of our father’s death contained his initials, followed by a question mark: RDB?

Marina Tsvetaeva was an exile all her life. She coined a famous phrase: All poets are Yids, which means that all poets are Jews, exiles, foreign. A real poet cannot be comfortably placed in any context.

We Carnies didn’t see ourselves as being in the restaurant business. We were in the social-change business.

Into such an India I am born. As the firstborn daughter, I enjoy an enviable position in the family and am subject to huge amounts of pampering.

To me, being a slut meant being promiscuous, and being promiscuous meant being desirable, and being desirable meant being powerful.

It stretched its body from the roof of the cage to kiss her back as if the two were lovers.

No more than dancer from dance, art from life, can you tell the placemat from the supper.

They were African American women who were on fire, and most of the world craved their heat.

It’s not about a cat. My relationship with my cat was civil. She didn’t like people; she only liked me.

My phone goes off. It’s a text. The first response to my ad today: “Nice pic. Got a face?”