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A Woman in a Parade of Puppets

A Woman in a Parade of Puppets

Would you like LAURIE to read the piece to you? Click below.   Sometimes, when I don’t know what to write about, when I don’t have a big story and I mostly just want to stay in touch, I shake my pockets loose for the small moments that are still with me from the...

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Hang in there baby …

Hang in there baby …

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I’m not an animal person. Seriously, I only just learned that the cat I’ve been living with for the last 8 years is a male. And once, after I’d moved out of my parent’s home in L.A. and had been living on my own for years, I...

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Let’s Have a Difficult Conversation

Let’s Have a Difficult Conversation

So there we were, five old friends sitting down to a sweet New Year’s Eve night. We’d planned to do a ceremony of sorts – not your typical New Year’s ritualizing with champagne and reflections -  but something that would involve a little concoction we’d brewed up, and...

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Claire and the Butterflies

Claire and the Butterflies

This is not the first time this year that I’ve sat down to write a blog post and not known what to say. I am speechless about the state of the world. I am flattened every time I hear Trump’s voice or watch him point his finger at some mysterious enemy on television. I...

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Time to Wake up, Sleepy Head

Time to Wake up, Sleepy Head

When I was 5-years-old, my grandfather, a photographer, decided that the shot he wanted was me, naked, standing on the diving board of his pool in Los Angeles. He took a lot of pictures of me when I was young  - maybe because I was the first grandchild, the first...

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This Is Me Scrappy And Relaxed

This Is Me Scrappy And Relaxed

This is me just after I've woken up, completely unassembled. It's me before a shower or a workout, me before I know what comes next, before I get all smart and strategic, before I pluck my unruly eyebrows or go after those persnickety chin hairs. Me before I examine...

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The Middle Way

The Middle Way

After seeing pictures of children in cages, it’s nearly impossible to write about anything else. Even writing that sentence makes me uncomfortable – mostly because to go on living as we do – just the regular stuff; get to the bank, stop by the market, write the blog...

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