When Daniella Keenan was a little girl, she would help her mother bake cakes. She would measure the flour, butter the pan, and blend the ingredients, as perfectly as her little hands could manage. Her favorite part was glaring into the oven, watching the cakes rise....
She stands alone – poised, wearing a classic dress, a floral shirt, and bronze earrings – on a New York street corner. She has that kind of sincere look in her eyes that cannot be faked. If you talk to her, you will almost always leave feeling happier. Her...
Calling all bloggers! Let’s get creative and collaborative. You see, I believe the most creative writing come naturally, randomly, and flows effortlessly onto the page. That’s why I want to do a little experiment. I would like to write a poem/blog post...
