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UnSEE

I 

object, 

to the 

infringement made upon

the civil rights of BLACK

LIVES that MATTER as much as my own.

“We the People of the United States of America” … establish Justice … 

Oh, really? Justice for who? Oh, you mean those Americans whose skin tone matches the parchment paper those words were written … 

Did you know it’s been two centuries since a fountain pen inked the…

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When You Show Up in Communications, The Benefit is a Meaningful Connection

When You Show Up in Communications, The Benefit is a Meaningful Connection

I have had more conversations in the last six weeks than I’ve had in the previous six months. On the phone, over text, in Zoom rooms and Google Hangouts, on Skype and WhatsApp, and casually from a safe distance of six feet with shop owners, grocery workers, friends, and strangers. I find the depth of these conversations to be fulfilling both on an intellectual level and an emotional one. And as…

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How to live with your eyes wide open

Do you know how to live with your eyes wide open?

Nine years ago I was on the verge of an awakening.  Metaphorically one might compare my existence prior to a deep catatonic state of consciousness. I’ve mentioned before that there are chunks of my life I honestly cannot remember as an all too active participant in the rat race of work hard play hard. I don’t know the exact moment when I ‘snapped out of it,’ I do remember that the jolt was so…

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the sacrificial carrot

This weekend came with an awakening, an awakening of spirit but also of sacrifice.

The gods have offered a semblance of spring for the Northeast, and it feels amazing. It should anyway, but instead it is a carrot that I can’t quite reach. I’m sitting at my desk with the windows wide open. I am typing story outlines and notes while texts ping in the next room. And I know what they say.

“He…

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listening to my muse

listening to my muse

I honestly cannot remember the last time I woke up this early to do anything except feed the cat.

Eyes wide open, the sky still dark. It’s 5AM and my mind is on fire. In a good way. I reach for the bedside journal, the one that used to be within arms distance, filled with chicken scratch pencil markings, the hieroglyphics of a writer with big-ish ideas. It used to be right here, I mutter…

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the secret of self-sabotage and how to avoid it

the secret of self-sabotage and how to avoid it

Last night I watched Brittany Runs a Marathon. I wasn’t sure how much or if I would appreciate the gut-wrenching story of a woman who overcame personal insecurity through exercise. I have experienced the benefits of exercise as a way to defuse a variety of health issues, and yet as the tears run down my face, I am overwhelmingly surprised by the emotional impact of Brittany’s crossing the finish…

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Subtext & Dialogue: Hidden Emotion

Subtext & Dialogue: Hidden Emotion

An Innocent Banter

“I forgot.” Silence. “It’s not that big of a deal, really …” “Yeah, right.” “So, what now?” “Uhm, I’m not sure.”

Subtext Version 1

Clutching the calendar with today’s date circled in bright blue and highlighted in yellow marker, Mallory felt her stomach drop. 

“Oh God, I forgot,” she mumbled. He’s going to hate me, she thought as she dialed Jack on her phone. The phone…

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The Backstory on Eloise Frump

The Backstory on Eloise Frump

A work-in-progress, the following piece is a writing assignment produced for The Center of Fiction’s Active Storytelling course taught by Judy Sternlight.

Summary Character Development

Eloise Frump, a 27-year-old socialite from Water Mill, NY. She lives with her fraternal twin, Marcus at a condo development in Bushwick, one of her father’s pet projects. Marcus manages the sales office in…

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A work-in-progress, the following piece is a writing assignment produced for The Center of Fiction’s Active Storytelling course taught by Judy Sternlight.

A Sense of Place: Plover of the Gods prepared by Andrea Preziotti

Note I’ve purposely used Roman and Greek names for each god, interchangeably.  (Triton, Ceres/Demeter, Neptune/Poseidon, etc.) 

“Triton, come sit by me,” Ceres said as…

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A New Point-of-View of The Giving Tree

A New Point-of-View of The Giving Tree

A work-in-progress, the following piece is a writing assignment produced for The Center of Fiction’s Active Storytelling course taught by Judy Sternlight.

A New Point-of-View of The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein, prepared by Andrea Preziotti

Boy, please tread softly, as your feet dance wildly across our bodies. You may be young but we are aging faster than you can breathe. Your story…

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WeWork Debuts All Male Revue, uhm, Board of Directors

WeWork Debuts All Male Revue, uhm, Board of Directors

Earlier this week it was reported that The We Company, the parent of WeWork, will be going public with an all-male board of directors. I find that troubling, and you should, too.

In their Global Impact Report for 2019, WeWork proclaims that #Women are leading the movement to make an impact on the world: “In the U.S., 44% of senior roles (executives, sr. managers, managers, and sole…

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Hell No, I’m Too Young to be a Cougar The stories people tell. In this case, the storyteller was a 25-year-old client service agent at the luxury resort where I am staying.

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Living Your Truth: How to Be Brave

Living Your Truth: How to Be Brave

Losing your job can be scary, but it can also be the kick in the ass you need to start living your truth. It certainly was for me and offered a newfound perspective. This is my story.

By the end of a nearly decade-long tenure at AOL, I had amassed almost 20 years of work experience in media and technology. Mind you I wasn’t entirely surprised by the pink slip, it was AOL, after all. When I think…

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Someone like me, did that

Someone like me, did that

I really want to sing live, again. Yes this is me admitting to all of you that I sang live once to an audience of 750 co-workers. It was thrilling and nerve-wracking, and almost as scary as my first time performing burlesque (we’ll save that for another day).

Every once in awhile my desire to perform creeps up on me. Singing has always been a part of me, although most days I’m singing to myself…

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Nineteen years later

It’s 12:03 and as I sit here drinking a steaming cup of chamomile tea, it dawns on me how far I have come from that snowy winter’s eve when the path I was on veered so off-course, far beyond what I could see.

As tumultuous as the mighty seas, I circumnavigated an Odyssey filled with perilous highs and lows befitting of only the greatest journey: where one learns their heart, its strength, and…

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Piano treasures of hope

Piano treasures of hope

The grand piano, a refurbished Steinway original outfitted with a brushed bronze soundboard, lies in wait for the pianist’s touch on its ivory keys. Pianoforte, the variation of sound from quiet to loud, is set in motion almost instantaneously as steel strings tautly attached to felt-covered hammers feel the vibration. One could imagine the sound but today the piano is silent, the keyboard…

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Shades of Pink

Hmm, Why…

Why what?

Why is it, so damn cold in here?

We may have forgot to pay the heat.

Why on earth would we do that? It’s winter, it gets cold, like every single day until the first day of spring and then, well it gets colder until global warming changes and—

This has nothing to do with global warming and everything to do with the fact that we just don’t have the means to spend…