Her hands were warm and firm as they held onto mine the first time we were meeting. She knew to reach into my space to complete the connection. Knew from the hours of calls logged, from the technical and medical explanations, knew from my recountings and stories of changing plateaus, that she would have to meet M(m)e more than half way. And so, there she stood, exhausted from travel and maybe some self-conscious worry, holding both of my sun-browned SMA
I said I wouldn’t write on this thing unless I had something profound to say. I don’t think I have anything to profound to say yet – generally I try to save those things for my stories. But I have a real need to reach out to You, my readers, the lovers of my words and my ideas. There is so much that I want to share with You all, over the course of this journey. I’ve been writing since
Hi, my name is Sandra and so… this blog will be about my writings, my existence as a writer, my living as a disabled person, my thoughts on being a creative and my book and self publishing exploits. But mainly? It will be about my writings.
Black Women Tears 
Disabled Chronicles, No.2f 
Disabled Chronicles, No.675 
Reminder 
This Work
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