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In the mid-1960’s in South Denver, a short distance from the apartment where my mother and I lived, was a hotel on Colorado Boulevard. I...

My mom: Cleopha Marie Tylenda There aren’t a lot of photos of my mother as a little girl. Personal photography was not a common thing...

The morning is black and the days are slow to gather light. Winter hovers over us with piercing silence and the language of snow. A...

The impervious feeling of youth is a delicious drunk of newness and firsts: first apartment, first true love, first heartbreak; the...