Patricia Bralley
Patricia Bralley lives in Atlanta, Georgia, where she’s working on her Ph.D. in molecular biology, and “finding it a rich source of metaphors for a more artful approach to life.” She’s also part owner of a medical lab.
Pennies From Grandma
I’ve been passing pennies on the sidewalk. There seem to be a lot, as if I’m not the only one who doesn’t bother anymore to lean down and pick them up. After all, what good’s a penny anymore? It’s enough to buy a memory. Every time I see one I think of my Grandma Bralley.
September 1986Same As Anyone
The birds start singing when it’s still dark, the stillness before dawn, when life is poised and light begins a tentative approach. I ponder my investments, none of them financial.
May 1986The Secret Of Life
I recall another day back in junior high. He wrote upon the blackboard large: DNA/RNA. He pointed to the letters lying there like some Kabbalistic mantra, then said, “This is the secret of life.”
November 1985Call Them By Their Names With Passion
“Name and form” the rishis call it. “Function and form,” biologists reply. Parallels accumulate. Coincidence perhaps, but I am forced to wonder. How much power is in a word, and can I make it mine?
January 1982Conversations, Yet Unspoken: Spring
There is a day in winter when warmth and wetness first come together perfectly. It is Spring, though no calendar admits it. There is a surging up. And it always seems a Sunday.
March 1981Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? We’d love to hear about it.
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