Friday, 9 December 2011

La Galerie Kenmore presents Turkeys and Ancestors

Installation View
  The installation view above shows a lively landscape with turkeys by my daughter. For some time, I had this painting/collage which includes sequins, hanging upside down on her wall. I had not realized those were turkeys, and thought it was a sort of stormy sky with two suns beaming down... or something. This piece is displayed together with my linocut image of water buffalo with skinny stick-figure primitive huntresses because both use strong, basic colour, both have a dark energy, and both feature bold, graphic animal shapes. The French class worksheet, La Chat et la Lune also happened to be on the fridge, because I love the cartoon drawings she did for this school assignment.

Hunting with the Ancestors, Linocut by Lori Gilbert
 I continue to be interested in goddess-type, ancient-looking female imagery, but these would be the skinniest I've ever drawn. This linocut was successful for me because everything worked well together and the registration for the three different colours was probably the best I managed to do, or will be likely to manage in the future.

Turkeys in a Landscape, mixed media by Emma Maki
La Chat et la Lune, school worksheet, Emma Maki
Note the details, such as the moon looking in the direction of the action in each scene, the expressiveness of the cat's tail, the double-head of the cat indicated that it is looking all around as the dog says, "What's happening?"

Hope you enjoy La Galerie Kenmore's latest exhibition. In my next post, I'm thinking of doing a rant about why Space: 1999 was such a dogawful show.

Thursday, 10 November 2011

Follow that Link

I would like to take the time to draw attention to some of the blogs I follow, and to recommend that you check them out. My favourites are Slushpile Hell, Pub Rants, Motivation for Creation and Iron Bess of the East.

Iron Bess is an old friend of mine, who has recently moved from western Canada to the east coast, and she is chronicling the adventures of home-building, road-building, renovating, and much much more. She writes opinion essays as well, often with a lot of passion and humour, but what I like best are the glimpses into her new life out east. It's almost like a pioneer woman's journal, only more high-tech and smart-assed. It's also incredibly inspiring to witness just how much Iron Bess and her handyman husband accomplish when they get to work. Nothing is going to slow down this hard working pair.

Motivation for Creation is a blog for writers, but I think it has applications for any artist or craftsperson, anyone putting their hand to "creative" work. She often poses questions that help you sort out your own creative issues, and thus creates an interactive blog with lots of discussion among writers and artists. This blog also features a beautiful layout and a really nice little fishtank where you can feed the colourful fish by clicking your mouse button. Try it, it's fun and relaxing.

Pub Rants is a literary agent's blog, and there is a lot to like about it. She is smart, funny, honest, to the point, but always, as she says "a nice Midwestern girl." Meaning respectful and polite. The blog features numerous agent links and resources for writers, and insight into the mysterious world of successful query-letter writing.

Slushpile Hell is a jewel. It is an anonymous blog by a literary agent venting his/her rage and frustration at the stupendously dumbassed queries that show up in the "slush pile" of his/her agency. I'm assuming the blogger is a man from certain statements appearing in past postings, but I'm not committing to that. In any case, it's one of the funniest things I get to see on the internet. Better than Awkward Family Photos. Recently I was going through a depressed phase, and couldn't stop crying and moping. Then I opened up Slushpile Hell and just started scrolling through all the old posts, until I ended up laughing so hard my cheek muscles were like rocks and I almost peed. So there you go, one man's misery is another person's remedy.

Enjoy these blogs while they last, people! And hope you enjoy mine as well.

What's So Great About Eye Contact, Anyway?

Avoiding eye contact is disrespectful. It shows dishonesty. It shows respect. It’s polite. It is defiance of authority. It respects authority, and expresses an appropriate submissive attitude toward authority. Direct eye contact is honest and open, shows you have nothing to hide. It’s aggressive, a challenge to authority, invasive, impolite, a threat.
These statements about eye contact are contradictory because there are so many different things that can be communicated through eye contact, and there are so many different cultural/natural responses to eye contact. For numerous human cultures and animals from baboons to polar bears, direct eye contact is a display of aggression and/or disrespect.
How do you feel when someone is staring at you for a long time, and not trying to hide it? Do you interpret their stare as aggressive, hostile, defiant, invasive, or disrespectful? Or is the person caressing you or adoring you with their eyes? Romantic poetry and pop songs are full of the imagery of drowning in the lover’s eyes, getting lost in his or her gaze. The intimacy of the gaze or stare may be appropriate or inappropriate; neurotypical people seem to have an inborn ability to make that distinction.
There is a point of view that suggests that people with autism are not deficient in empathy but are in fact flooded and overwhelmed with it. It’s too much, and they have to turn away from others, and shut out the barrage of information and emotion. To look into someone’s eyes is far too personal and intense; not only the long, penetrating gaze, but the brief, day-to-day forms of eye contact. Many people on the autism spectrum can learn to tolerate some direct eye contact, which is essential in certain situations such as job interviews. But the interpretation of eye contact is subjective, and most people with autism or Asperger’s Syndrome are not keen on subjectivity; there are no grey areas, just black or white.
With my daughter, I’ve certainly seen a lot of stormy weather around the issue of subjectivity, and we talk a lot about “fact” versus “opinion.” She takes pride in having the skill to point out that something is an opinion rather than a fact. We talk about eye contact as a social skill, a part of good manners, something we use along with other tools like a nice tone of voice or a smile or polite words. It’s something to be learned and practised, but really only used in a limited way. We know it doesn’t come naturally, as for neurotypical kids, and we know it’s uncomfortable. The need to take in and interpret “eye” information also seems to distract from processing verbal information. By insisting that a child look at you when you are speaking, you may actually be shutting off their ability to hear you.
The neurotypical world assumes so much about a person and about the nature of the interaction, based on a narrow view of “eye contact.” Fortunately we live in a diverse culture that demands tolerance and acceptance of difference; and families affected by autism are at the forefront of challenging narrow views about thought processes, communication, and relationships.

Thursday, 27 October 2011


Fridge installation view

Elephant Shopping
Pencil drawing by Emma Maki

Kissed Off
mixed media collage by Lori Gilbert
(india ink, pencil, lipstick, acrylic paint on paper)

Kissed Off

Just in time for Halloween, La Galerie Kenmore presents drawing-based works that combine the treat with the trick. "Kissed Off" was originally an artist's bookwork, which I later took apart and culled down to the best pages. It features lipstick kisses on translucent paper, concealing hostile mouths in black ink on white paper. I remember applying lipstick and creating 32 different imprints, then drawing a small mouth image in ink to complement the shape of each lip-print. Then I produced ANOTHER 32 lip prints on pastel-coloured lined notebook paper. Then I wrote little personal, diary-like statements in and around the lip prints on lined paper. I bound the bookwork so that the prints on coloured paper were facing or "kissing" the prints on translucent paper. Each print on translucent paper was laid over an ink drawing of a nasty mouth, so that you could lift the "kiss" and see the teeth or sneer or venomous tongue underneath. It was all about passive-aggressive hostility of course, but I really dug the whole process, you know?

My daughter's drawing of an elephant shopping for clothes needs little explanation. I'm sure we've all felt a similar frustration when stampeding into a dimly lit fitting room with a dozen hangers full of garments clutched in our trunks.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

La Galerie Kenmore Goes All Goddess-y

Art on the fridge today focuses primarily on figures rendered in Prismacolour pencil, and modelled on  primitive goddess images morphing into insect-like creatures. This is an ongoing theme in my artwork, there may be more to come at La Galerie Kenmore. Also currently on display, a black and white drawing by my daughter, illustrating the activities of Fairies in the landscape. These hard-working, feminine spirits of nature should be familiar to anyone with a girl in the ten-and-under age group. They are responsible for our rainbows, sunrises, blooming of wild flowers, the addition of sparkliness to the landscape, and many other woodland tasks. I think these little cuties should be unionized.

Slipping out of the nursery now, my etching and aquatint piece "Spider Moon" hints at the dark and swollen underbelly of female spirituality. I see this small piece as the visual baby sister of such Robyn Hitchcock songs as "Madonna of the Wasps" and "Antwoman." for lyrics to "Antwoman"  ... with her audrey hepburn feelers, indeed. for performance of "Madonna of the Wasps"

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

Asperger's Corner

I feel a long and disjointed rant bubbling beneath the surface lately. What's inciting my outrage and indignation these days, is the horrible, depressing, violence-inducing topic of children's birthday parties. My kid will be turning 10 in December; I suppose I should be feeling joy and delight as I attempt to plan some sort of social gathering to celebrate the event.

For the past several years, we've gone in for the currently popular practise of booking a venue such as a swimming pool or indoor play-park, which in itself provides the entertainment and eases the kids into their social interactions. Other examples might be a party at a bowling alley, or a McDonald's that has one of those "play-places." I help my kid do up the invitations, and encourage her to invite this one and that one, and do up the loot bags, and buy all kinds of snacks. If it's at a pool, I squeeze myself into my *!#$ bathing suit and supervise the little splashers for 2 hours or whatever it is.

This is all well and good, and it would absolutely be worth all the time and expense, IF any of my child's party guests had the good graces to return the favour. Last year, she invited 5 or 6 kids, 3 of them attended, and NOT ONE invited her to their birthday party as the year unfolded. I don't blame the kids, I blame the parents. Why aren't they teaching appropriate social skills? or just plain manners? How can I manage to smile my way through another one of these nightmares, providing an afternoon of child care, cake and entertainment and thanking them all as they leave, knowing that my daughter won't be bringing any invitations home in her backpack?

That's my rant. Next time on Asperger's Corner: What's so great about eye contact anyway?

Sunday, 9 October 2011

Goals, Goalies, Getting One in the Net

This year, I set a couple of goals for myself (well, more than a couple actually). To start submitting short stories to contests and publications. To become more involved in the local writers' community. To learn to drive. Two out of three ain't bad. I am driving around now with a driving instructor, or my husband as a co-driver when I'm not taking a lesson. It's coming along very well, and my instructor says the road test should be no problem. So the driving goal may actually be achieved before my fifty-first birthday this year. I've submitted stories to the Writer's Digest Annual Competition. This is my second attempt at submitting work, and my short story "Lights Out" actually squeaked under the line and made it into the top one hundred for the Genre category. Very pleased with myself about this; at the rate I'm going, I might even make money in this racket by my eleventy-first birthday.

Now, about the getting-more-involved goal... maybe I just don't do "social." Shamefully, I continue to miss meetings of the local Writer's Circle, would like to get out to events but can't be bothered to arrange child care, and so on.... But I'm not quite giving up on that one yet.

In terms of setting and achieving goals, you may notice a theme of "late bloomer" in my life. Learning to drive and just beginning to submit stories at the age of fifty and so on. I'm also a middle-aged woman with a pre-teen child. Not that there wasn't the opportunity; babies and parenthood were early desires of mine, yet I remained childless throughout a lengthy common-law relationship. When that was over, and I found myself single in the big city, the goal of parenthood waited on the shelf until I reached about 37 or 38. Then, the baby hunger hit hard, and I ruthlessly strategized to get pregnant. But no matter how hard I played, I never scored. Finally, I gave up the game and took to enjoying warm summer evenings on the porch with a glass of red wine and Bridget Jones.

Just as I was about to turn forty, I found myself in a relationship with a guy my age who liked a lot of the same things. We had a lot of fun, you might say. I remember warning him one night (or was it morning?) that if we continued  to play without a goalie, we were bound to get one in the net eventually. He gave me his sly smile and said "Better keep working on my slapshot." And so, shortly after my forty-first birthday, and on the exact date of his forty-first birthday, our daughter was born.

When we set goals for ourselves, we plan all the steps leading up to their accomplishment. But I think the most important step is to look for the goalie blocking our way. Whoever, or whatever, that goalie is, you need to remove him from the game. Then, just take your best shot.

Saturday, 17 September 2011

Swimming Across the Page

Installation view, several fish in various media

Happy Fish, mixed media, Emma Maki

Trout, aquatint/etching, Lori Gilbert
Jackfish, pencil drawing, Lori Gilbert

Welcome to another fridge-opening reception at La Galerie Kenmore. As you can see, there are a number of fish involved. Generally, my daughter and I tend to have our fish swimming from left to right, and I think this is an expression of our nature(s) as extremely avid readers. I grew up with my nose in a book, and never thought I'd be telling my kid to "Put that book down! Stop reading!" Yet it happens all the time. So, the directional movement of most other activities will naturally follow the course of the left-to-right flow of our primary characteristic activity. Why swim against the current?

You'll note the trout gliding through a set of quotation marks. This was an ongoing theme of mine for several years; I just loved quotation marks, and explored that curvy shape in all its permutations as paisley, leaves, flames, snails, embryos, ripe fruit, and so on. The open-and-close quotes are in the correct position for reading left to right, but notice the fish appears to be moving in the wrong direction (for an embodiment of the physicality of reading). I was puzzled by this today, but then realized I didn't reverse my original drawing when transfering it to the etching plate. Printmaking is like that, you have to think backwards, like Alice through the looking glass.

The jackfish drawing is very simple, but I think I succeeded in capturing the fishy shape of its body as it curves toward the viewer on its way through the water. The jackfish, or pike as it is also known, is swimming cautiously into the picture plane from the left. The trout would have been just entering the image from the left as well, in the original drawing. This contrasts with the placement of my daughter Emma's fish, which has joyfully motored across the page without a care in the world, and is swimming eagerly toward the edge of the page. This compositional difference in the placement of fish in our artworks points to differences in our reading styles and in our motivation for reading. I enjoy a good page-turner as much as anyone, but I especially like a book I can wade into gradually, going over paragraphs several times to make sure I'm absorbing everything the author intends. My kid, on the other hand, likes to jump right in with a big splash, and zoom forward in a straight line toward whatever is going to happen next.

Please enjoy these pictures and words, and help yourself to some wine & cheese. It's on the house.

Sunday, 28 August 2011

La Galerie Kenmore presents.....

Remember La Galerie Kenmore? Our last exhibition featured black and white pencil drawings by unofficial domestic artists Lori Gilbert and Emma Maki, a mother-daughter team to watch out for. Currently on view, "Mama's Garden" a work in markers by Ms. Maki circa 2005; and a silkscreen Goddess image by Lori Gilbert from some time in the mid-nineties.

It's the time of year to really start enjoying the rewards of summer's toil. If only my garden were really that neat and tidy. There's more to come in future posts, plus I promise more wine and cheese next time.

Fridge magnets not for sale.

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Asperger's Corner

Just a quick post here. My computer is in the shop for god knows how long, but have to share an important bit of information and outrage.

"Talk about discrimination. Immigration Canada turns down an application for permanent residency for a 20-year-old because he has Asperger Syndrome. They figure that he will be a $7,000 annual burden to the healthcare system. I encourage you to comment on this story.
Chris Reynolds wants to stay in Canada with his dad and brother. But the only way his family’s application for permanent residency will be approved is if he’s not on it."
This sucks because they are refusing a family entry to Canada based on a young adult's mild disability. It's unlikely that a 20 year old with Asperger's is ready to live on his own, without family support. The reason given is that Immigration sees him as a $7000/year burden on the healthcare system. I would call this an investment. If these kids get adequate support and resources to help them through the school years, they can often become very productive members of society due to their intelligence, unique perspective, and intense focus on work that they are passionate about.
As well, the father is a university professor who has been living, working, and paying taxes in Canada for some time now. If this young man can't get residency on his family's application now, he will not be able to get it on his own after age 22, which will leave the family no option but to move back to the states. The pragmatic and ideological implications of this decision are both completely offensive to me, as a mother raising a child with Asperger's Syndrome.
June 14 at 10:05pm · · ·

Friday, 20 May 2011


La Galerie Kenmore: Where art on the fringe meets art on the fridge.
Please excuse poor lighting; this is a kitchen and there is some glare off the sparkling white surface of my fridge. As well, some wine & cheese had already been consumed...

installation view, pencil drawings by Lori Gilbert and Emma Maki. (magnets not available for sale)

Portrait of Child by Lori Gilbert, pencil drawing  (2011)

Fairies at Work in the Landscape by Emma Maki, pencil drawing (2010)

Two Cats by Emma Maki, pencil drawing (circa 2007)

Artist/Curator's statement:

The refrigerator door, with its convenient location and size, becomes the receptacle for documents and images that describe our lives. School calendars, appointments, family photos, news clippings, garbage collection schedules, phone numbers, and of course children's drawings and school work all vie for space and attention here at the heart of the home. We may begin with the intention of organization, everything lined up just so; this is going to be a kind of family communications centre. But clutter and confusion prevail in the end. A stack of expired coupons and old to-do lists provides evidence of this ongoing slide from order into chaos.

To celebrate our activity as (unofficial) artists, and to share work both old and new, I claim this surface as a domestic/alternative/intergenerational/happening kind of place for art. Thank you for coming to view this first modest exhibition featuring black & white pencil drawings by mother and daughter. Colour will be prominent in the next showing.

Enjoy your wine & cheese!

Tuesday, 3 May 2011

Junk Drawer

This is one of our family junk drawers. An assortment of batteries, tools, lint brushes, pens, stray receipts, keys, Canadian Tire money, and so much more! (I hope I remembered to wipe off the handle before taking the photo...)
We have about five or six drawers like this around the house, containing different varieties of junk. One or two of them are exclusively designated for my husband's junk. Some of his junk has recently attained antique status. None of his junk may be touched, lifted, tidied, straightened up, rearranged or in any way tampered with. My art supplies junk drawer has a bottle of india ink, sketchbooks, a tin box holding all my Prismacolour pencils, pictures cut out of magazines, numerous European stamps that I collected when I worked at the LCBO, pens, erasers, and an old rolled-up drawing.

What's in your junk drawer? Do you have several, like we do? Or are you one of those people who would never have such a thing in your house? Please feel free to share the secrets of your junk drawer in the comments section.

Speaking of art supplies, and thus art, you are invited to my next post
featuring a gala opening reception for
La Galerie Kenmore
Photographic refreshments will be served
 and of course you are welcome to bring your own wine & cheese

Saturday, 23 April 2011


According to Jennifer James, author of “Women & the Blues”, we need to have enemies as part of our personal growth. She mentions that historically, women needed the support and approval of the community (including other women) in order to have security; so we all learned how to be "nice" and "popular." However, an independent life lived with passion and integrity means one is bound to offend or irritate someone, somewhere, and thus create enemies.This doesn't mean being judgemental or hyper-critical of others, or constantly fostering discord to gain attention, nor taking umbrage at every variance from one's own views. James comments, "Enemies are a test of our honour, not an excuse for giving it up." She seems to be advocating instead that women save the energy we waste on trying to get everyone to like us (doesn't work anyway), and gain energy and insight from our exchanges with worthy opponents.
Most of my old enemies have faded into the past. None of them seem to have any impact on my life, and haven’t for a long time. This is partly due to the fact that, for some years now, my social life has also faded into the past. Not being really big on multitasking, I’ve focussed in on my immediate family and our issues, especially raising a child with Asperger’s Syndrome. This doesn’t leave a lot of time to cultivate friendships or enmities. My current lack of enemies is also partly due to the fairly common human trait of avoiding conflict, especially as we get older and want to cut down on those sudden spikes of high blood pressure. Yes, I admit, as a younger woman, being aggressive and engaging in a heated argument over ethics or politics, was indeed quite a turn-on. At fifty, I get plenty of heat just standing still, and added stress doesn’t help matters.
But, I do still hold grudges, especially against those who really deserve it. Like the ones who pull their nasty passive-aggressive stunt, then withdraw, and refuse to engage in open debate. The ones whose personal dramas wreak havoc within an organization, and who then take no responsibility for cleaning up the mess they’ve made. The school principal, She Who Shall Not Be Named, whose stubborn and wrong-headed approach to “discipline” nearly screwed up my kid’s life. But she needs a whole essay to herself.
In spite of a tendency to hold grudges, there are a few old enemies out there that I am curious about. If I ran into one of them, would I react instinctively to all the old damage, by putting up my guard and being self-protective? Would we immediately pick up the thread of the old argument? Would it be possible to either resolve, or let go of, old conflicts? Would I find that I, unexpectedly, like these people now?
As my husband and I come to terms with the life-long implications of our child’s diagnosis, and as we watch her progress and mature, we are making small forays out of our social isolation. We’ve each dropped some old relationships, reinforced others, forged new friendships, and are beginning to make social connections based on our interests. I’m looking forward to meeting some new enemies. And besides personal relationships, what about diversity and richness in our language? As well as all the friendly phrases having to do with connectivity and cooperation, people also need on occasion to be at loggerheads, to fall out, bear malice, be on bad terms, at daggers drawn, feel disaffected, estranged, irreconcilable, experience discord, hostility, rancor, animosity, aversion, and get to know a few antagonists, foes, opponents and snakes in the grass.

Recently I read a short piece in the Globe and Mail, announcing that an ancient, indigenous language spoken only in a certain area of Mexico, is now in danger of extinction. It's an oral language with no written expression, and it seems that the last two living remnants of this language live in the same small community. But they're no longer speaking to each other. 

Thursday, 21 April 2011

The Spiritual Necessity of Dog Poop

Morning is my best time to write. It’s a great time to do the cryptic crossword puzzle, too... or start on a housecleaning chore that will take me well into the afternoon. So, best to just sit down and start writing. I’m still a bit embarrassed by my writing. I shy away from anything too ambitious, I worry over what others will think: too academic and stuffy, or too naive and clumsy? My daughter helps me cut through the crap.

She told me all about inventions while we were out walking the dog one day. Apparently, every path in life has dog poop on it here and there, and if you never step in the dog poop, you’re not an inventor.
These are words to live by. How sad and how boring for the people who never step in the dog poop! There it is, so generously strewn across their path, but – ew, I can’t get my expensive boots dirty, or ew, I won’t look very hip if I step in that. All those unwritten social rules that keep us all in our place, and stop us from changing anything. Always look acceptable to others. Never make a mistake. Avoid bad smells. Thank god, at the end of the day I won’t be able to say “Hurrah! I made it all the way along my path and never learned a thing!”

Tuesday, 19 April 2011


By way of introduction, my main purpose in starting a web log is to share some of my writing (but not all of it...) completely free of charge. Please enjoy 1. a winter haiku, now that spring is here, and 2. a short short story about a short short girl.


Digging through
Snow with stiff fingers
Prying loose a fallen key


2. (tentative title: Small Change)

“It’s about time,” Julie remarked when she saw her mom’s face hovering over the toaster slot. “Can’t you ever get up on time?”
“Quit wiggling.” Her mom, after a gasp of fear when she saw where Julie was, had unplugged the toaster, and was now looking more annoyed than frightened. “Do you know you could have turned the elements on, bouncing around like that?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it...” As soon as she realized she was safe, Julie had made her usual transformation from scared child to scornful ten-year-old.
“It’s not yeah, yeah, young lady, it’s NOT yeah, yeah. “ Beth used the knob at the front of the toaster to elevate her daughter. With great care she lifted Julie out of the toaster-slot and set her down on the counter. “It’s what the hell -- I mean heck -- are you doing climbing around up here? You’ve been told!”
Julie brushed a few crumbs from her tiny jeans and t-shirt. She was small, slim, with wispy blond hair and surprisingly large blue eyes, which she used to her advantage at moments like this. She blinked up at her mom, looking contrite, but gauging when it would be safe to smile.
“Sorreee...not that I’m trying to make excuses or anything, but – I like climbing. You know I’ve always liked climbing and exploring. Sorry I got into a bit of a problem there...”
“Problem? I’m not sure I even want to know how you got up here in the first place, but you better believe this counter top is off limits until I say otherwise. Got it?” Mom could be a bit militaristic at times. But the corners of her eyes were starting to crinkle up just a bit. “Honestly, I don’t know any other parents in this neighbourhood who are fishing their kid out of the toaster this hour in the morning.” Julie’s lips pressed hard together, trying to keep from smiling quite yet...but when her mom scooped her up to snuggle against her housecoat, they were both laughing.
Half an hour later, Beth drove into the drop-off area at Julie’s school, and smiled down at the cup-holder by her seat. Julie unbuckled the tiny harness that kept her in her improvised seat, and reached up to kiss her mom good-bye. A teacher’s assistant was waiting nearby to take her to the Special Needs room. Julie grimaced. “Mom, when can I move into a regular class? I know you won’t let me take me the bus. But come on...I don’t have a disability. I’m just small, is all.”
“You know I’m working on it, honey. The official line is, it’s hard to find resources to purchase educational materials in your size... it’s hard to find materials, period. Meanwhile, if you’re in the Special Needs room, you get somebody who’s paid to help turn pages, type your answers into the computer, all that stuff.” Beth rolled down the window and handed Julie over to the teacher’s assistant. “And sweetie, about the toaster incident this morning. I’m serious about your safety; you know we all have to follow the rules so that nobody gets hurt. Bye bye.”
“Ok, bye mom. And don’t worry about me. This is school, I won’t be getting any big ideas here.”


Thank you for reading! And please let me know if you, or a young person you know, would be interested in following the adventures of a very small girl with very big ideas.