Lisa Flores


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Untouchable Dad.

My father died last week. Or the week before. Maybe he died awhile ago, I suppose I'm not sure. August 4th was the date, but the feeling has been alive in me for an endless and unknown amount of time. I sit in the wake of my father's death, the most unsettled feeling cascading over me, with an inability to move. My father passed that on to me-the inability to move. My father's inability to move was strong enough to shift tectonic plates, to force oceanic surges. He moved so little that even when he moved he was unseen. Allow me to explain... when i see a black man i see my father. tall. big belly. bald head.  i smell whiskey and disgust.  anger clenches my jaw tight i feel my breath catch in a decade of elapsed time.  unseen. and all around me.  in every drink. in every moment of fury. when i see a black man i feel the worsts in me shadow out the sun. regret yields to anger, opens to pain Back in college, when the surges really began to ris...
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Women Behaving Badly: An Afro Triangle Production

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Tonight I went to the 'Outspoken Speaker Series'  led by artist Adrienne Norris (Adri). I learned of Adri from a friend, another local artist of a different medium, and am so grateful for the introduction. Adri is a portrait painter of a new kind. The kind of portrait painter who makes you look at all the other portraits and question--Why don't they do it like Adri? Or maybe the better question is--Where has Adri been all my life? Adri's mixed media portrayals opened my perspective in just the right way. Tonight I learned deep knowledge regarding women in connection with their LGBTQ histories. Adri taught me not only about the women whom she has painted, but also of the social context of the time periods in which they lived. She discussed women and the worlds they lived in dating back to the Victorian era. Adri's postcards (elements of her larger works) of Billie Holiday & Audre Lourde Tonight Adri reminded me that art is such a fluid form, that sto...
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Regret.

Fortunate . That's what I instinctively connect to the word regret. I am fortunate in feeling I have little to regret. It is possible that somewhere out in the universe someone believes I should regret more. And, as I read the dictionary definition of the word I come to understand that regret means much more than my brain had previously informed me of. regret: feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over  (something that has happened or been done, especially a loss or missed opportunity)  I suppose I should rethink what I hold as regret in my mind, in my heart. In looking back, I shall share my regrets in the truest sense-the ones I held in relation to my own definition. The call for help that was not to be.  I sat curled tightly in my bed, pressed against the wall that heard everything. Frozen in my disbelief. Rattling with anger. Glued in place by my need for understanding. She was on the other side of the wall being beaten by her lover, by the man who came i...
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