Born and raised in Brooklyn NY, Patrick Dougher is a self-taught Artist, Musician, Poet, Educator & Spiritual Activist.
Reflections by Anita Henderson
Film Freezes Time, but Ages the Filmmaker by Edmond Pang
A Much-Needed Bloody Victory by Sanum Patel
The World in My Throat: Reading Anne de Marcken in New Cairo by Youssef Rakha
No One Will Love You More by Crystal Wilkinson
If you said you remembered her packed suitcase or her kiss on your forehead before she left you, you’d be lying. If you said you remembered her whispers or the muffled cries, if you said you heard the dog’s bark followed by the engine of your grandfather’s car, then the crunch of the gravel as they headed out of the holler carrying her away from you, you’d be lying. But somehow all of this is true. You’ve carried versions of your mother, versions of her leaving, with you your entire life. Inventing and then re-inventing your mother’s story. Turning your mother over and holding her up to the light like a stone.
