Mom

The woman who brings up everything I don't want to talk about - the fate of a suicide soul, the integrity of Christianity, the war in Iraq, how much I truly love her - everything she knows we disagree on. But that's what moms are for. The more differences of opinion we have, the more she doubts me. She doesn't know how much she means to me, how much I respect her opinion, and how much I care for her feelings. I just wish she wouldn't raise her voice.

I love her. Her putting of others before herself, and her ability to get us by on so little, make life worth living. But the cradles we rock and the churches we burn hardly make life seem livable. Should I kill myself, I'm told my soul will go to hell; should I go to Sunday service, I must renounce my Saturday service as a lizzie bean; should I question the role of the British and American Militaries and fret for the loss of Iraqi children's lives, I'm allegedly siding with the bad guys. Our world perspectives are so different, and to be different is to cause tension. No one's right, no one's wrong really. Just chock it all up to just that: differences.

*I love you mom, but religion and politics à Don't go there!*

Think of all of the love she has given and remember she too is loved.

Little Brother

Meet my "little brother" - mighty fine artist in his own right. Loran suffers from the sub conscious influence of his big sis.

I believe in you Loran. Follow your dreams. You are going to be the doctor/artist/zoologist you've always wanted to be.