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wherein we entertain the notions of a creature embroiled in sorting multiple identities. is she a mother? a poet? a performer? an organizer? or is she simply the product of a feminist movement in which women dreamt that simultaneously singing opera, tap-dancing, spinning plates, spouting rhetoric and solving algorithms was liberation. here are the rough drafts.
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Showing posts from March, 2006
We’ve past the first anniversary of our move.
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Wilson Bear Will Always Be Safe (in our house)
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