On summer nights my family and I would sit around my grandmother’s kitchen table and tell stories. You wouldn’t believe the tombstone tossin’, out the window flyin’, coke-bottle throwin’, packin’ a sack and leavin’ kind of stories that swirled around for hours leaving us children wild with envy.

Over the years, my cousins and I competed, adding to the table gut-busting, big bone breakin’, down the stairs fallin; getting’ on a bus and goin’ stories of our own. When we were big enough we ran out into the world to collect more.

I packed my pencils, paper, and brushes and drove to Orange Country. Met a few friends, and collected some exotic stories to take back to the kitchen table. Little did my cousins and I know, our aunts, uncles, and mommas were collecting more stories too. I personally would not be outdone and gathered up my pencils, paper, and brushes, and ran back out into the world.

The orange men told about a big apple that I should see. So I went. It was full of exotic people with strange tales. Surely, I would have the best stories when I went home. Well, just when I thought I’d get a good one goin’, an aunt, uncle, or mother would grab their belly in a laugh, slap their knee even, and say, “yeah, that’s a good one, but let me tell you about the time when…”

Shadra studied design, illustration, and writing at Syracuse University.

She earned her M.F.A. frm the School of Visual Arts and now collects stories in Brooklyn, NY.

represented by Lori Nowicki 212.633.2311

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