Melancholy Days The landscape changes with the seasons, but the missing doesn’t. by Kelly O'Dell Stanley In late fall, early winter, I see Dad all around me. Literally. I drive the fifteen minutes from home to the studio, watching the landscape gently undulate around...
Consolation Prize There’s something incredibly garish about scenery like this juxtaposed against such depths of sorrow. The light is too bright, the colors too pure. by Kelly O'Dell Stanley My freckled skin and I sit in the shelter of the umbrella, but I’ve lathered...