I was an academic writer until I had to take a mental and physical health break. I had been told early on that creative writing wasn't for me. I needed to stick to the confines of a strict methodology. I was good at research papers, documenting items for curating purposes in the museum world, and writing accepted styles for my profession.

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I found that during the years I was housebound due to chronic illnesses, raising children on the autism spectrum with mental health disorders, and not living the American Dream, I realized there was much more that I wanted to express outside the confines of my own mind.

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I  began to write poetry to conquer the monsters that lived inside my head while living a chronically ill life. It seems that once I started, I found writing answered a calling I didn't know I had.

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Poetry, essays, blog posts, articles, short form, flash fiction, the door has been thrown wide open. What can I say? It's fun being 50 and finally opening up!