I’m a mother, self-taught photographer, and psychotherapist living in Maryland.
I won’t be able to write from the grave so let me tell you what I love:
sourdough bread, cold sunny mornings, peaks of red in a room, cobalt blue, “I luh loo mama”, churros, gallery walls full of old art, vanilla, romantic comedies, collecting coffee table books, well lit rooms painted in dark moody colors, black and white photos (sometimes with flash), the sound of rain on the roof but only in my grandmother’s house in Jamaica, talking about death, my partner’s voice when he’s sleepy, cold peanut butter cups, sour cream and onion chips, crows, staring at the full moon,
beeswax candles, oil pastels, a new sketchbook, a well-used journal, inky pens (if it smears, I need it), horoscopes and tarot, white roses, very spicy ramen without the heartburn, well-written villains, the blue bag of lifesaver mints, pottery, floor lamps, decor and art that features cats but cats terrify me, marquetry, book stores, antiques, cowboy boots, and staring at bodies of water contemplating if I’m getting in.