When I began these essays, I had never typed any more than a paragraph or sentences in response to questions.  Then my Mom and Poorman wanted to find out what I really knew and my ability to function thoughtfully.  My capability to create art with words was always present, waiting to be shared.  I write for all of those voices that have not been expressed.  Join me and let’s free those who yearn to  type, “I love you, Mom.”  Everyone has voice . It  is unique.  Let’s find it and honor it.