If you look closely she really does look like royalty with her long neck and crown and full skirt so meticulously decorated sitting on a purple throne. I feel joy when I see a Monarch butterfly. I have not seen them for so long.

Made by Maria

...my grandmother. I asked her to help me fold some fabric scraps. She came back with this package. It is beautiful.


MY blog

Some in My family
Since the beginning I have always written about my family in my blog. They are what is most important to me! I have had a rich life because my family identity is that of being immigrants from Portugal. Every family as a collective has an identity....immigrants, politicians, civil servants, italian, portuguese, greek etc. Sunday we visited my cousin who is very ill. She received a phone call from her son who was at a baptism in New Jersey. He was the godfather of the baby. He told his mother who just finished chemotherapy and will be doing more chemotherapy in two weeks that the party was not the same without her. She was the glue of the family, the enthusiastic one who gathered everyone for the usual pictures or told the funny stories etc. She is the life of the party. My grandmother left her job to raise nine grandchildren and countless other children of Portuguese immigrants in Norwood so that they could work and make money. She did this for free for everyone, even if they were not her grandchildren. She is precious to me just like the rest of my family. SACRED. They know me best. We have lost in our family our share of lives of the parties....Tony, Sue.... too early... ..So I will keep practicing those photos of my 6 month old nephew and my 47 year old cousin and my 94 year old grandmother and everyone in between. And I will write about them in my blog. And I will cherish every moment.


unconcious ..years from home

I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine And ask my business there. My business,—just a life I left Was such still dwelling there? I fumbled at my nerve, I scanned the windows near; The silence like an ocean rolled, And broke against my ear. I laughed a wooden laugh That I could fear a door, Who danger and the dead had faced, But never quaked before. I fitted to the latch My hand, with trembling care, Lest back the awful door should spring, And leave me standing there. I moved my fingers off As cautiously as glass, And held my ears, and like a thief Fled gasping from the house. Emily Dickinson Complete poems 1924

My grandmother

She is my best company while I am here in Boston until at least Christmas. She immigrated at about age 60 so my mother and her brothers could come here. I would like to be able to better photograph her so that I could capture her essence ..esp. in b&w.