Back then I looked so much like my mother that people mistook pictures of her as a younger woman for pictures of me. Our bodies even moved the same way, swaying a little bit from side to side at a rhythm and pace that nearly had us colliding. I sometimes purposefully collided with her, in lieu of a hug, which would have embarrassed her. My mother couldn’t easily say “I love you,” but during these walks her body said it. Read More…

Originally published on Huffington Post. Last week, my husband and I got the sad news that our friend, artist Burton Chenet, was shot to death in his home by an intruder. His wife, Christine, sustained a serious injury when the gunman shattered her elbow with another shot before fleeing. The tragic incident took place in Turgeau, a residential area in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Although ours was not a very close relationship, I liked Burton a lot, kept in touch with him Read More…