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Sandra Jean-Pierre | Digital Artist & Writer of Words.

Tag: miami

Study of Hands: Leaning In

On the heels of some pretty awful news two weeks ago, I received an email from someone advising me that they were curating a digital art show and wanted to invite me to participate. I wanted to ignore it. As a matter of fact, when I received a similar email from the same said person a week prior, I did in fact ignore it. I had gotten my hopes up once before on someone who was ‘interested’ in showcasing my

Disabled Chronicles, No.3765:

That one time, you make it home before everyone else and you have to let yourself in but your automatic door opener has been busted for over a year and coming by $1500 to get a new one is next to impossible. So you head to the back door, since that door knob is a lot lower and somewhat easier for you to open on your own, even though it will take you 75 minutes (give or take some cursing

His cane makes noises when he sets it down and leans his weight into it. Click-clack… pause… slide of foot against the floor.  Repeat. I had initially passed him, unawares that he was so alternately-abled.  I thought only of myself in that moment and my need, like a bright sun flower, to warm my face in the sun. I, who had spent an hour at the electrologists, allowing an infinitesimally small needle to be placed into the stubborn follicles of

I am not sure there is much in life that I have been proud of; even if I’ve worked at something, like finishing my education say, I can’t say I was proud.  If anything I was glad to have gotten it done and over with.  Glad that it was no longer an unfinished task looming over my head, waiting to shame me in some kind of way. But proud?  Proud always makes me feel like it is just a segue

… Sandra.  I live, I do stuff and I write about it.  Although I should probably write a whole hell of a lot more than I do.  Cause let’s face it – the smattering of posts I’ve managed to write would lead you to believe that I don’t do or get a whole lot of stuff accomplished. I write my life in pieces because I don’t think I’m very interesting.   Honestly.  Or maybe I’m just trying to forget some of