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> The Backs of Our Hands. Lake Forest, CA. September, 2007. Knowing Well Five days a week, I point my truck towards town and roll in to my office. It’s an easy commute, dramatic as the oak arcades of Live Oak Canyon Road yield to banks, barber shops and bars, crammed side-by-side like diners at […]
The Backs of Our Hands. Lake Forest, CA. September, 2007. Knowing Well Five days a week, I point my truck towards town and roll in to my office. It’s an easy commute, dramatic as the oak arcades of Live Oak Canyon Road yield to banks, barber shops and bars, crammed side-by-side like diners at the […]
The Backs of Our Hands. Lake Forest, CA. September, 2007. Knowing Well Five days a week, I point my truck towards town and roll in to my office. It’s an easy commute, dramatic as the oak arcades of Live Oak Canyon Road yield to banks, barber shops and bars, crammed side-by-side like diners at the […]
“I am a Masterpiece!” A Sweet Reminder I was not fond of myself as a teenager. Part of the problem was that I didn’t look right. As the whole world embraced Marsha Brady with her beautiful shiny straight blonde hair, parted down the middle, I struggled to tame my brunette curls. I’m happy to say […]
“I am a Masterpiece!” A Sweet Reminder I was not fond of myself as a teenager. Part of the problem was that I didn’t look right. As the whole world embraced Marsha Brady with her beautiful shiny straight blonde hair, parted down the middle, I struggled to tame my brunette curls. I’m happy to say […]
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