Juliet Amulet, a drama student, returns home from college to attend a Thanksgiving gathering with an elaborate plan to convert and exorcise the inevitable political confrontations by exposing family secrets.
I'm a visual artist. By day, a graphic designer, by night and early morning, I'm a writer. For me, creative writing is a visual art, using line upon line of symbolic code to light up our neurons and transport us elsewhere. Words are like colors. They can be shaped, textured, and tinted with nuance, exposed into lightness or darkness. They heal. They cause pain. Words are complex instruments charged with poetic ambiguity. They trigger emotional collapses - a catharsis, an epiphany, a shuddering release of tension that comes in a warm torrential rush. As well, they can alight, arriving delicately, as shimmering and magnificent as a butterfly emerging from its own womb. Like atoms begetting atoms that beget molecules, when uniquely linked, words form a DNA of indelible visions.