My name was Jenny.

When I was little, my name was Jenny. If I could type it correctly on a computer, the “J” would appear backwards the way I used to write it. Although it’s been almost four decades since anyone besides a few family members has called me by that name, it has taken me a...

Along the road less traveled, with a compass.

It’s been my experience that most people who aren’t artists look at what we creative types do and think we know something they don’t. There’s an assumption that if something is made into tangible form, it must be true. The artist must have some kind of inside...