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February 12, 2026

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00 Post To All Spies Arts Looking at the Masters Spy Journal

Looking at the Masters: Delita Martin

February 12, 2026 by Beverly Hall Smith Leave a Comment

Delita Martin was born in 1972 in Conroe, Texas, near Houston, and continues to live and work in nearby Huffman. She says, “Everybody in my family made art. We would paint, we would draw, we’re storytellers. I was whining because I wanted to go to art school, and I didn’t realize I grew up in an art school! Quilters, storytellers, writers. And this was something that we did every single day. We just woke up and did it.” 

She recalls that starting when she was five years old, her parents would introduce her to people and “always add that I was going to be an artist when I grew up, so it never really occurred to me to have a plan B or to consider that being an artist wasn’t a possibility.”  A major influence on her and her family was their friendship with John Biggers (1924-2021), a prominent artist in the Haarlem Renaissance.

Martin received a BFA in drawing in 2002 from Texas Southern University and an MFA in printmaking in 2009 from Purdue University. She opened her studio, the Black Box Press, in Houston in 2008. She served as a part-time faculty member at the University of Arkansas in Little Rock from 2008 until 2012, and she was promoted to full-time in 2013. Her work became nationally recognized in 2011 when she was chosen for the College of Liberal Arts Emerging Voice Award. In 2015, the International Review of African American Art referred to Martin as one of sixteen “African American Artists to Watch.”

“Black Bird” (2016)

From the beginning, Martin was clear about her work: “The pieces are about my discovery of who I am as a person, an artist and a woman and how all the components come together to make me who I am.” She deals with the exclusion of African American women in the past and in the present. Her works are mixed media that begin with her photographs of family and friends. The process can include acrylic paint, relief print, lithography, charcoal, hand stitching, and anything she decides to attach to complete the story.  

“Black Bird” (2016) (50’’x39’’) (Daughters of the Night series) is a photograph of herself, identifiable by the gold hoop earrings. “My ears were pierced when I was six months old with tiny gold hoops. The style of earring has become a symbol of inclusion in my work. Not only is it a circle, thus symbolizing the female, but it represents notions of totality, wholeness, the infinite, eternity, timelessness, and all cyclic movement.” Behind the figure are black circle shapes that enclose the blue and white honey comb patterns. Several different pattern pieces are cut in the shape of feathers provide the black bird’s garment. She stares out at the viewer, making eye contact and announcing her presence. No longer in the darkness, no longer invisible, she is present in today’s conversation.

“The Moon and Little Bird” (2018)

“The Moon and Little Bird” (2018) (79”x102”) (gelatin printing, collagraph printing, relief printing, decorative papers, hand-stitching, and liquid gold leaf on heavyweight papers) (Between Spirits and Sisters series) is influenced by Martin’s interest in the dual worlds, the physical and the spiritual. She refers to her sitters as spirit women. Her interest in her African origins led her to research the roles of African women. In Sierra Leon, West Africa, the women of the Sande society wear black helmet Sowei masks as shown on the woman at the right side of the work. The masks represent the ideal of ancestral beauty along with the elaborate braided hair styles. Rings around the neck represent the water through which women enter the physical world from the spirit world. Sande society, managed only by women, is responsible for enforcing the moral code. The mask is worn during initiations of young women into adulthood which involves their role in the community. 

Martin, wearing her gold hoop earrings, sits calmly opposite the mask wearer and looks directly at the viewer. Sande society women are the only women in Africa that wear masks. Men are excluded in this space. Martin explains that this space is private and secret where women can express and exchange ideas freely. She describes the use of large scale works as making a “connection on a more intimate level…labor intensive…large scale to be seen and felt.”  The question the work inspires is, “Are you the viewer or are you being viewed?” 

“The Soaring Hour” (2018)

In “The Soaring Hour” (2018) (71”x51”) (Between Spirits and Sisters series) Martin again places herself in a vibrant blue night setting. Blue is symbolic of spirituality in many cultures, including Christianity, for example, in the Virgin’s blue gown. Martin holds a Sande mask, a symbol of a woman’s dual existence in one body. She calls these images a “veil state, the state between waking life and the spirit life.” Flowers and vines surround her. The painting is meant to inspire women to reach for and to achieve new experiences and new heights. “Flying isn’t always about escape, it’s also about freedom,” says Martin.

“Guardian” (2019)

“Guardian” (2019) (44”x30”) is an image Martin chose for her book Shadows in the Garden (2019). “I grew up surrounded by gardens and all kinds of farm animals. I often reflect on getting up early in the morning to pick fruits and vegetables with my grandma, my mama, and other women in my family. The seeds of these experiences working with land, tilling the earth, and being engaged with the elements of my environment have bloomed into what you’re recognizing in my work with the integration of birds, plants, and flowers.” 

“Blue is the Color We See Before We Die” (2021)

“Blue is the Color We See Before We Die” (2021) (8’x6’) is a depiction of Yvette Smith, wearing the Sande mask, who was killed on the doorstep of her friend’s house in Texas on February 16, 2014, by Sheriff’s Deputy Daniel Willis. Her pose suggests she might be dancing. Her white dress is decorated with red poppies, where the fatal shots entered her body. Willis, in light blue, is removing his mask. His badge stands out against dark blue and black images of assault rifles on legs. The central figure composed of geometrical shapes is Smith’s neighbor Willis Thomas. The background consists of flowers and leaves on tall stems. 

“Blue is the Color We See Before We Die” was commissioned in 2021 by the Law Enforcement Accountability Project (LEAP), ARRAY, and Ava Vernay.  It was “dedicated to empowering activists as they pursue narrative change around the police abuse of Black people.” (LEAP)

The National Museum of Women in the Arts sponsored “Calling Down the Spirits,” an exhibit of Martin’s work in 2020. Her work was included in the 2022 Venice Biennale. Recent exhibitions include “Gathering of Bones” (Germany in 2022), “Sometimes My Blues Change Colors” (Massachusetts in 2024), and “What the Night Knew” (Texas in 2024). 

“Mythologies” (2024)

“Mythologies” (2024) (60”x80”) was included in the exhibit “What the Night Knew.” The two female figures are the principal element in this work. The gold circle earring, the black circles, the large flowers with seed pods, and the mixture of patterns are Martin’s signature images.

“I think what I’m most excited about is how Black Women, themselves are reframing how they see themselves and other Black Women when they view my work. One of the most political subjects to date is the Black female body. When you, as a Black Woman, can take ownership of your body image, present a narrative that you know to be true and present it to the world, it can be very powerful and impactful. My answer to the white gaze has been simply not to entertain it. I understand that in the art world certain levels of success require an unspoken validation from the white gaze. I have never felt I needed that type of validation. I have always subscribed to just making good art and being prepared to be a good steward of the success that it would bring.” (Delita Martin interview)

Note: Martin is represented by Galerie Myrtis in Baltimore.


Beverly Hall Smith was a professor of art history for 40 years. Since retiring to Chestertown with her husband Kurt in 2014, she has taught art history classes at WC-ALL and the Institute of Adult Learning, Centreville. An artist, she sometimes exhibits work at River Arts. She also paints sets for the Garfield Theater in Chestertown.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: 00 Post To All Spies, Looking at the Masters, Spy Journal

Chicken Scratch: Sharp Shards — by Elizabeth Beggins

January 18, 2026 by Elizabeth Beggins

Artwork by author of squirrel on a tree
Photo of artwork created by the author, a linoleum cut print of a squirrel climbing a tree.

The Climb: A linoleum cut print I made as a teenager.

 

“I’m going to have to deal with some of these guys soon,” my husband says after a cadre of squirrels makes quick work of the chicken wire I’ve secured over my potted kale plants. I grow hardy greens in these pots every winter, but this year the fuzz-tailed Houdinis are decimating them before my eyes. It feels like a losing proposition.

I live in a small, rural town where critters with abundant food supplies flourish in the absence of natural predators. The more prolific they become, the more damage they do, ravaging gardens, stripping bark from young trees, chewing table legs. My husband is inclined to control them precisely, reducing the population until we reach a better balance.

The first few times he mentions it, I mutter and make disagreeable faces. Eventually, he’s winning me over. “Only if we can find someone who’ll take them for food,” I say, because I hate the idea of killing something just to kill it. I spend a few minutes browsing recipes for traditional Brunswick stew but can’t quite justify learning how to clean squirrels given how little there is to work with.

Later, prefacing her comment with sufficient sensitivity, one of my kids notes that they’ll be food for something whether we eat them or not.


I am thirteen, and my family has just moved into a new house on a wooded lot in suburban North Carolina. My mother, only forty-seven, has lost both of her parents just three weeks apart. She uses the inheritance to build what she thinks will be her forever home. Creating something lasting from that kind of loss serves as a stand-in for the therapy she never seeks.

The house itself seems to understand this, not dominating the land so much as settling into it. One tree in particular, a substantial hickory, stands exactly where the deck is meant to go. Instead of cutting it down, they build around it.

“I can still conjure the sound of the squirrel dropping onto the deck with a sickening thud.”

To my young self, this feels logical—obviously the tree should be saved. Only later do I realize how rarely people opt into that kind of accommodation. Every fall, in its wide, waving arms that arch above the deck, the hickory produces an abundance of nuts, and every fall, the squirrels cut them into sharp shards that wedge between boards. My parents spend untold hours on their hands and knees, using table knives to pry them out one by one. It is tedious, physical, deeply unglamorous work that is never quite finished.

At some point, my father decides there is a better solution.

He frames his assault on the resident rodents as a necessity and takes up a post inside the barely-open sliding door, a few feet away from that stately tree. My tender heart and I wander into the kitchen just as he fires a shot, and I can still conjure the sound of a squirrel dropping onto the deck with a sickening thud. My protests annoy my father who tells me to take myself to another part of the house.

Dad is an avid waterfowl hunter and sometimes travels west to hunt larger game. Guns are familiar to me, insofar as I am accustomed to their polished, upright presence in the glass-front cabinet in the basement. I think nothing of eating what my mother prepares from the spoils of his outings: tiny quail smothered in mushroom gravy, hearty roasted duck or goose glazed with sweet fruit, moose burgers, elk steaks.

What’s unfamiliar is witnessing the moment when an animal goes from living to dead. There is no discussion, no acknowledgment that something irreversible has happened. The squirrel is a problem; the problem is addressed, and my unease is treated as an inconvenience, leaving a persistent impression that I won’t understand for a very long time.


My husband and I consider ourselves fortunate to raise our children on a farm. We live there for thirteen years, long enough for the rhythms of tending and loss to become intuitive. He is busy running a furniture-making business, so the garden and the flock of laying hens are mostly mine to manage. Death is everywhere—chickens sick beyond saving, chickens beheaded or carried off by predators, reptiles, insects, garden plants, weeds, and every kind of creature our part-feral cat takes pleasure in offing. When you are that close to it, life is always brushing up against its end, and stewardship requires constant acknowledgment of what is fragile and finite.

“I never love any part of it. I don’t even like it, but I do it with honor for the life being given and the sustenance it allows.”

When the hens grow too old to lay productively, we cull them ourselves, with a small group of helpers. Once a year, fifty birds in a single day are then sold as stewing hens to our devoted market customers. It is nothing compared to what many farmers do, but it feels like plenty to me. I don’t sleep for days beforehand as I rehearse the reasoning over and over again: this is part of eating; this is part of care; everything we consume involves the death of something.

I tell myself that if I am going to eat meat, I must be willing to kill it, and that there is something dishonest about outsourcing the violence while enjoying the benefits. I think I’ll learn how to do it quickly, cleanly, with as little suffering as possible, but I only use the knife on a chicken’s throat once. It takes me two tries, and I feel horrible for the bird. From then on, I maintain other positions on the processing line, leaving the sticking, as we call it, to those more confident.

I never love any part of it. I don’t even like it, but I do it with honor for the life being given and the sustenance it allows. After several seasons of second guessing my hesitations and wondering why this continues to weigh on me, I realize that complete acceptance would dull the gravity of the sacrifice. I don’t want that. I want the act to stay difficult, weighty, acknowledged.


Though I can’t identify it the day he decides to take charge of the squirrels, what I feel in the gruff exchange with my father is a tension between his need to solve problems and my own need to appreciate life. His irritation with me is human, shaped by the expectations of his generation and gender—the demand to act decisively, without visible emotion—but it unsettles me with how it pushes past the caregiving I so desperately want to preserve. It’s not malice, only a difference in how we approach what we owe to living beings, a distinction in moral awareness that has been alive in me for as long as I can remember.

In our backyards, squirrels can be treated as problems to be managed—aggravating, low-stakes.

Beyond the property line, that same lack of regard can be catastrophic.


Renee Nicole Good, a mother of three, a wife, a friend and neighbor, someone with a whole life, loved ones, and dreams, is shot at close range, in broad daylight, by a man authorized to carry a gun in the name of the state. She is neither verbally aggressive nor armed. I read account after account of how she is killed. I don’t watch the videos, because I already understand the magnitude of a life ended, and I want to keep my attention on what it takes to bear that responsibility.

“I do not know if respect—for life, for the inherent worth of a human being—can ever be fully restored once it has been discarded…”

Around the world, and with horrifying frequency in this country, lives are taken with guns backed by authority, and the deaths are folded into policy debates before grief has even begun. Renee’s is one such life among many. I do not know if respect—for life, for the inherent worth of a human being—can ever be fully restored once it has been discarded, once someone sees it as expendable.

What I do know is that the work of bearing witness to what unfolds when care is abandoned, of acting with integrity and attention, is ours to do, even when it is exhausting, even when what we are able to do feels impossibly small. I know that when we go looking for leaders the criteria for selection should extend far beyond political affiliations and what we want to believe. The capacity to lead should be measured by moral courage, by a willingness to not just acknowledge harm but also take responsibility for it rather than deflect or deny it.

So many of us are out of balance, teetering between paralysis and rage, undone by what’s been lost. We can’t do much, but we are doing what we can. Is it enough—to notice, to care, to tend what remains worthy, to honor the goodness that persists despite it all? In the face of so much destruction and suffering at the hands of those in power, I’m not sure. But I am certain that if we look for them, opportunities to act with respect, even reverence, are never hard to find. And, in the absence of the tectonic shifts we hope for, they become everything.


An audio version of this essay, read by the author, is available here.

Elizabeth Beggins is a communications and outreach specialist focused on regional agriculture. She is a former farmer, recovering sailor, and committed over-thinker who appreciates opportunities to kindle conversation and invite connection. On “Chicken Scratch,” a reader-supported publication hosted by Substack, she writes non-fiction essays rooted in realistic optimism. To receive her weekly posts and support her work, become a free or paid subscriber here.


 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: 3 Top Story, Spy Highlights, Spy Journal

From and Fuller: A New Year of Foreign Conflict and an ICE Shooting in Minneapolis

January 8, 2026 by Al From and Craig Fuller

Every Thursday, the Spy hosts a conversation with Al From and Craig Fuller on the most topical political news of the moment.

This week, From and Fuller discuss the unprecedented events of the Trump administration in the first seven days of January, including a military abduction of the president of Venezuela, the threat of using force to acquire Greenland, the president’s decision to seize a Russian-flagged oil tanker, and the death of an American citizen by an ICE officer in Minneapolis.

This video is approximately 20 minutes in length.

Background

While the Spy’s public affairs mission has always been hyper-local, it has never limited us from covering national or even international issues that impact the communities we serve. With that in mind, we were delighted that Al From and Craig Fuller, both highly respected Washington insiders, have agreed to a new Spy video project called “The Analysis of From and Fuller” over the next year.

The Spy and our region are very lucky to have such an accomplished duo volunteer for this experiment. While one is a devoted Democrat and the other a lifetime Republican, both had long careers that sought out the middle ground of the American political spectrum.

Al From, the genius behind the Democratic Leadership Council’s moderate agenda which would eventually lead to the election of Bill Clinton, has never compromised from this middle-of-the-road philosophy. This did not go unnoticed in a party that was moving quickly to the left in the 1980s. Including progressive Howard Dean saying that From’s DLC was the Republican wing of the Democratic Party.

From’s boss, Bill Clinton, had a different perspective. He said it would be hard to think of a single American citizen who, as a private citizen, has had a more positive impact on the progress of American life in the last 25 years than Al From.”

Al now lives in Annapolis and spends his semi-retirement as a board member of the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern University (his alma mater) and authoring New Democrats and the Return to Power. He also is an adjunct faculty member at Johns Hopkins’ Krieger School and recently agreed to serve on the Annapolis Spy’s Board of Visitors. He is the author of “New Democrats and the Return to Power.”

For Craig Fuller, his moderation in the Republican party was a rare phenomenon. With deep roots in California’s GOP culture of centralism, Fuller, starting with a long history with Ronald Reagan, leading to his appointment as Reagan’s cabinet secretary at the White House, and later as George Bush’s chief-of-staff and presidential campaign manager was known for his instincts to find the middle ground. Even more noted was his reputation of being a nice guy in Washington, a rare characteristic for a successful tenure in the White House.

Craig has called Easton his permanent home for the last eight years, where he now chairs the board of the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum and is a former board member of the Academy Art Museum and Benedictine.  He also serves on the Spy’s Board of Visitors and writes an e-newsletter available by clicking on DECADE SEVEN.

With their rich experience and long history of friendship, now joined by their love of the Chesapeake Bay, they have agreed through the magic of Zoom, to talk inside politics and policy with the Spy every Thursday.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Spy Highlights, 00 Post To All Spies, From and Fuller, Spy Journal

Maryland Caucus with Foxwell and Mitchell: The 3 Top Maryland Issues to Watch in 2026

January 7, 2026 by Len Foxwell and Clayton Mitchell

Every Wednesday, Maryland political analysts Len Foxwell and Clayton Mitchell discuss the politics and personalities of the state and region.

This week, Len and Clayton list their top three issues that Maryland voters will be looking at as the state enters what promises to be one of the most intensive midterm elections in its history.

This video is approximately 25 minutes in length.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Spy Highlights, 00 Post To All Spies, From and Fuller, Spy Journal

A Preview of Maryland Politics in 2026

January 2, 2026 by Len Foxwell

The Christmas gifts have all been distributed, the tree now sits slumped and desiccated, and our attention now turns to seasonal matters such as postseason football, tax preparations and hearty Sunday stews.

For the political and cultural commentariat, this is the time when we can veer into one of two directions. Either we can look back at the year that was, or offer a glimpse, with speculation and predictions, at the one in the on-deck circle.

This writer cannot think of anything less appealing than revisiting a year that, from beginning to finish, has been shrouded in darkness. Rather than wasting time enumerating the American values that have been assaulted, the constitutional passages that have been shredded, the societal institutions that have lost legitimacy and the beloved souls who have been taken from us, let us just agree—if only within the confines of this space—never to speak of 2025 ever again.

Which leaves us looking ahead with trepidation to 2026. Which, potentially, will be one of the more fascinating years in the recent history of Maryland politics and government, with no end of issues, personalities and developments to watch in the coming year.

Gov. Wes Moore

As our ebullient governor heads into his re-election year, he is faced with both good and bad news. The most obvious good news is that he appears primed to win re-election by a decisive margin. The governor has sufficiently traveled throughout the state to deepen relationships with an electorate that is still getting to know him.

He has also earned intra-party plaudits for speaking out, with customary eloquence, against the poisonous policies of Donald Trump and their consequences. The only plausible GOP contender, former Gov. Larry Hogan, has done nothing to reassemble his political machine aside from occasional Facebook posts teasing a comeback.

While Republican hopeful Ed Hale’s messaging has been highly effective at tapping into the frustrations of Maryland’s minority party, he simply doesn’t possess the political experience or persona needed to upend a Democratic governor in a state where Democrats still outnumber the GOP by more than 2-1.

On the other hand, a poll conducted by UMBC’s Institute of Politics and its estimable pollster-in-residence, Mileah Kromer, indicate that while his approval ratings remained steady in 2025, his disapproval ratings have experienced a substantial uptick. The Governor’s relationship with the Democratic-dominated legislature has steadily devolved over time – over everything from reparations and redistricting to the sale of beer and wine in grocery stores – and can fairly be described as icy.

To add to this drama, a multibillion-dollar state budget deficit that had been slain in 2025 with a painful blend of service cuts and tax increases has now re-emerged, like Glenn Close from the bathtub in Fatal Attraction, to the tune of more than $1.4 billion. This, with a hefty balloon payment from the Blueprint for Maryland’s Future education plan looming a year from now.

And Marylanders were startled last month by the new cost estimates for the new Francis Scott Key Bridge, which have jumped from less than $2 billion to as much as $5 billion. This has cast a fresh round of doubts upon the commitment of the federal government to wholly finance its construction, and to do so in a timeframe under which the new bridge would be open for service within the next five years.

How will the governor manage these and other landmines?

Can he harness his once-in-a-generation political talent to unify his restive party? Will he and legislative leaders find solutions to Maryland’s resurgent fiscal challenges that jeopardizes neither his anticipated margin of victory in 2026, nor his rising star on the national political stage?

Or will this session simply be the start of a desultory campaign toward a Pyrrhic victory that inflicts lasting political wounds? As was William Donald Schaefer’s in 1990?

For that matter, will he be the latest in a long, distinguished history of Democratic incumbents and frontrunners to deal with an annoying primary challenger? One who has no chance of winning but exists merely to dredge the latent disquiet within the party’s rank and file?

Many Annapolis insiders still recall the lonely campaign waged by grocery store clerk Bob Fustero against Kathleen Kennedy Townsend in 2002 – one which raised less than $2,000 but carried 20 percent of the statewide primary vote.

The Next Madam Speaker

Joseline Peña-Melnyk, a cerebral and highly respected lawmaker from Prince George’s County, brings more than her share of “firsts” to a new position.

The Dominican-born Peña-Melnyk, 59, is the first Afro-Latina and the first immigrant to be elected speaker of the Maryland House of Delegates. She is also the first speaker to hail from the Washington suburbs since the abbreviated reign of Hyattsville’s Perry O. Wilkinson from 1959–63.

Perhaps more importantly, the new speaker offers a portent of philosophical, administrative and generational change within the “People’s Chamber.” In less than three weeks, she has already overhauled the House’s leadership ranks and rearranged its organizational chart by subdividing one committee into two.

Peña-Melnyk has also demonstrated a willingness to fly outside the Democratic Party’s prescribed V-formation. In 2016, she mounted a surprisingly energetic and appealing challenge to longtime party stalwarts Anthony Brown and Glenn Ivey for the 4th District seat in Congress. Six years later, she bucked Prince George’s County’s vaunted Democratic establishment—one of the few remaining bastions of vertical machine-politics in Maryland —to support U.S. Rep. David Trone over her County Executive, Angela Alsobrooks, in the Democratic primary for the U.S. Senate seat being vacated by Ben Cardin.

What does all of this mean for the composition and flow of Democratic House priorities in 2026? It remains to be seen. What we do know is that Peña-Melnyk takes the gavel riding a wave of genuine enthusiasm, affection and goodwill from her colleagues, one that is truly uncommon in this grim political age. We know from her personal story that she is undaunted by challenges of the moment, and we have seen from her political life that she does not feel beholden to her party bosses.

Energy Crisis

Maryland’s energy policies are a mess, an exploding meth lab of illogic and wish-fulfillment fantasy.

In the laudable pursuit of clean energy, our state leaders have depressed electricity support by closing three coal-powered electricity plants in the past five years. This, even as local growth and economic development policies, coupled with the inevitable ravages of climate change, have caused demand to spike.

As a result of a ruptured balance between supply and demand, we are now forced to import 40 percent of our state’s electricity from out-of-state. Which is literally bought at an auction and is, therefore, prohibitively expensive. In a holiday spirit, this writer was almost tempted to omit the fact that this gold-plated electricity is generated at the same type of coal-fired plants that we have shut down. Note that I said almost.

Now, BGE—financially fortified by state laws that allow it to reward its investors with record profits, pass its mandatory costs down to the ratepayers, and operate in a literal market monopoly—is under the microscope. As are the governor and General Assembly, who must now brace for angry ratepayers brandishing unprecedented monthly bills, and who don’t want to hear hollow excuses, incremental policy reforms or yet another spate of “studies” that simply confirm the obvious.

Donald Trump’s War on Maryland

Of all the uninformed, asinine political rhetoric that has infected our civic discourse over the past year, perhaps the dumbest are the utterances of those who—motivated either by legitimate fears or bad-faith partisanship—have begged Gov. Moore to please stop poking the bear, because he might just retaliate against US.

Respectfully, those who would actually say something like this in a public forum have no business managing their own finances. Indeed, one can imagine this graceless vulgarian rising out of bed and wondering how his national policies can work specifically to the disadvantage of the State of Maryland.

His DOGE-fueled crusade to dismantle the U.S. government has already cost Maryland about 15,000 federal jobs. According to one George Mason University study, as many as 50,000 public and private sector jobs have already been lost.

Trump’s war on scholarship resulted in an $800 million loss of funds at Johns Hopkins University, which in turn has led to more than 2,000 layoffs while placing lifesaving or life-changing research at risk. More than $2.3 billion was slashed at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, threatening jobs, careers and the fundamental mission of the agency.

His administration has reneged on a deal to build the new FBI headquarters in Greenbelt, has paused offshore wind projects in places such as Ocean City, and inexplicably refused to authorize federal disaster aid to communities in Western Maryland that were destroyed by floods last spring.

To top it off, the three most visible, highest profile victims of this administration’s ethnic cleansing, perpetrated under the rubric of immigration reform, happened to be Maryland residents – Miguel Abrego Garcia, Pastor Daniel Fuentes Espinal and Melissa Tran.

How will our state’s leaders respond in 2026?

Will there be new laws proposed to, if not curb, at least expose the barbaric behavior of sworn ICE agents on Maryland streets and in school drop-off lanes? Will they impose deep financial sanctions upon those counties that have established agreements to cooperate with ICE?

How, and to what extent, will our state, federal and local leaders challenge these and other ruinous policies in the courts?

We, The People

Amid all of this dystopia, Marylanders can be excused for their mood as we head into 2026. According to a UMBC-Kromer poll, we believe the following conditions will be even worse in the coming year than in the hellish one we are about to mercifully discard:

  • Social divisiveness

  • American democracy

  • Our quality of life

  • Our daily sense of stability

That doesn’t leave much room for optimism. And it begs a question of existential importance: Given the pervasive gloom that Marylanders feel about the current state of our politics, and the sense that things are not going to get better in the near future, how will that affect the civic engagement that is the lifeblood of any healthy system of government?

Bereft of the opportunity to vote against Donald Trump in this gubernatorial election year, will people be motivated to volunteer and vote for the local candidates? Burdened by a sense of fatalism about daily existence, will they still summon the will to advocate for legislation that will make their communities better, and challenge those bills that would have the opposite effect? Will our political leaders, many of whom have been appointed to their elected offices and are insulated by the comfort of districts that were drawn for maximum partisan advantage, do whatever they wish in 2026 simply because they can?

Or will they have the humility to have an honest conversation with constituents who simply believe the system no longer works for them – and actually listen to what they have to say?

The answers to these questions will begin to take shape in a mere matter of days, as the Maryland General Assembly will convene once again on January 14. Ready or not, business is about to pick up.

Len Foxwell is the principal of Tred Avon Strategies, a communications and political consulting firm in Annapolis.  A Johns Hopkins lecturer and HopStart director, Len previously served as Chief of Staff to Maryland Comptroller Peter Franchot. He holds a B.A. in Political Science from Salisbury University, where he also served as Special Assistant to the President.

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Filed Under: 00 Post To All Spies, 3 Top Story, Spy Journal

Those Winter Sundays by Robert Hayden Read by Sue Ellen Thompson

December 23, 2025 by Spy Daybook

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?

—Robert Hayden
Robert Hayden was an American poet born in Detroit in 1913 and known for his clear, thoughtful poems about Black history, family, and moral struggle; he died on February 25, 1980. His best-known books include A Ballad of Remembrance, Words in the Mourning Time, and Angle of Ascent. He was the first African American Poet Laureate of the United States, appointed in 1976.
Sue Ellen Thompson is the author of six books of poetry—most recently SEA NETTLES: NEW & SELECTED POEMS. She has taught at Middlebury College, Binghamton University, Wesleyan University, Central Connecticut State University, and the University of Delaware. A resident of Oxford, MD for the past 18 years, she mentors adult poets and teaches workshops for The Writer’s Center in Bethesda. In 2010, the Maryland Library Association awarded her its prestigious Maryland Author Award.

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Spy Art Review: 100 Years/100 Feet of Rauschenberg at the Academy by Steve Parks

December 18, 2025 by Steve Parks

Born a century ago in Texas, Robert Rauschenberg lived and worked most of his life in New York City and Captiva Island, Florida, where he died at 82 in 2008. He would have turned 100 on Oct. 22, 2025, which accounts for the Rauschenberg centenary commemorations at art institutions all over the globe. Certainly not the least of these is “Rauschenberg 100: New Connections” at Easton’s Academy Art Museum – the centerpiece of which is “Chinese Summerfall,” a 100-foot-long photographic frame-by-frame panorama shot and assembled in 1982-’83.

Due to the scale and delicate handling it requires, this singularly epic exhibit all its own is rarely displayed in public. So how did it land in Easton, you ask? Donald Saff, Rauschenberg’s collaborator on “Chinese Summerfall,” lives in Oxford, also home to his studio, where parts of the 100-foot-long photograph, among several other of the artist’s major projects, were put together.

At the time, 1982, Rauschenberg was working closely with Saff at the University of South Florida in Tampa, where his Graphicstudio was located. Rauschenberg was already renowned for, as he put it, “connecting art to life,” which incorporated brushstrokes, snapshots, fabric, everyday found objects, plus newspaper and magazine clippings into collage commentaries he called “Combines” – a hybrid he invented by melding aspects of painting, sculpture, and photography.

“Chinese Summerfall,” however, is a purely photographic endeavor, the artist described as a “compositional tale unrolled according to its own appetite. What is already there dictates what comes next,” he said, before adding: “The witness – my camera – recorded not everything we saw, just everything we looked at.”

Indeed, there is a randomness to what Rauschenberg and his camera “looked at” in his 100-foot photo winding its way around AAM’s Lederer Gallery – encompassing urban alleys, ill-lit hotel rooms, wall paintings and statuary fragments next to utility poles. But there are manipulated scenes, too – a gnarled tree trunk spliced against a mountain vista at the start of the ribbon of photographs, while midway through, a pair of spoked wheels superimposed over a section of the Great Wall of China, concluding with understated irony – a sideways huddle of chickens.

A potential political controversy was averted, Saff recalls, when Chinese authorities objected to a blurry image of Lenin and Stalin together. When asked to relinquish the negative, Saff surrendered an unexposed roll of film instead.

Across the hall in the Healy Gallery, 30 framed stills from Academy Art’s permanent collection include a few that didn’t make the cut for the 100 feet of “Chinese Summerfall.” But most instructive is the large printer’s proof typical of the 8-to-10-foot sections into which the finished Rauschenberg Foundation project was divided before final assembly.

As a follow-up to “Chinese Summerfall,” Saff also collaborated on the Rauschenberg Overseas Culture Initiative which brought the artist’s work to nations isolated from the influence of Western democracies, including the Soviet Union, East Germany, Cuba (then ruled by Fidel Castro), Chile (under dictator Pinochet), and Venezuela, now much in the news.

The ROCI world tour culminated in a 1991 National Gallery of Art exhibition in Washington, after which Roschenberg was awarded the Hiroshima Prize for Peace through Art. About that time, Saff moved to Oxford, where he opened Saff Tech Arts, representing, along with Rauschenberg, other such innovators as Roy Lichtenstein, Nancy Graves, and James Turrell.

For a wider appreciation of Rauschenberg as America’s and perhaps the world’s most original and relatable post-World War II artist, consider a visit to his adopted hometown to take in “Robert Rauschenberg’s New York: Pictures From the Real World” at the Museum of the City of New York, running through April 19, 2026. The show traces his evolution from photography into an integration of painting, sculpture, and found-object hoarding to create a new art form of collage mosaics.

Steve Parks is a retired New York arts critic now living in Easton.

‘RAUSCHENBERG 100: NEW CONNECTIONS’
Through May 3, 2026, Academy Art Museum, 106 South St., Easton.

Related programs: Pianist Thomas Moore performs “White Paintings and Silent Music – John Cage and Robert Rauschenberg in the 1950s,” Friday, Jan. 16, 2026; the artist’s son Christopher’s lecture: “Robert Rauschenberg’s Photographic Legacy in Context,” Saturday, Feb. 21, and collaborator Donald Saff’s lecture: “Robert Rauschenberg in China and the Overseas Cultural Interchange,” Friday, March 27, all at 6 p.m. Other current AAM exhibits: “Clay: The Power of Repetition,” through Feb. 15, 2026, and “The Skin of Water,” through Feb. 22, academyartmuseum.org

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Looking at the Masters: Edvard Munch

December 18, 2025 by Beverly Hall Smith

Expressionist painter Edvard Munch (1863-1944) was born in Loten, Norway. He perhaps is best known for “The Scream” (1893), a painting that reveals his anxiety, alcoholism, and depression. He was weighed down by family members’ deaths when he was very young. Additional factors were his poor health and his father’s religious zeal and harsh discipline. As an expressionist he almost always chose emotion over realism.  Munch also painted many portraits and landscapes. He spent his life in Norway, with trips to Paris and Germany. 

 

“Winter in the Woods, Nordstrand” (1899)

This article on Munch’s lesser-known landscapes, winter settings in particular, explores a unique side of his work. By the time “Winter in the Woods, Nordstrand” (1899) (24”x 35”) (oil on cardboard) was painted, Munch had become known internationally. From 1899 through 1901, he painted several winter landscapes of the fjords at Nordstrand, south of Oslo. The setting of this piece is a dark spruce forest in the snow. No people are present, but footprints in the snow indicate that people recently had come this way. The heavy clumps of snow on the trees are fresh. The wind has not yet dislodged them. Munch used thick strokes of paint, but he let the tan cardboard show through in places. Like the Impressionists, whom he admired, he painted shadows in shades of blue. However, he also had a heavy hand with black. He was creating his personal style. 

The painting, often described as melancholy, is a close-up view of the forest, the sky not included in the scene. But the sun shines across the exposed ground and causes the snow to glow. Munch depicted nature as raw and powerful with his use of broad sweeping brushstrokes. He explained, “Painting picture by picture, I followed the impressions my eye took in at heightened moments. I painted only memories, adding nothing, no details that I did not see. Hence the simplicity of the paintings, their emptiness.”

“White Night” (1901)

In winter in Norway, “polar night,” the scientific term for the phenomena, occurs when the Sun remains below the horizon. The title of the painting, “White Night” (1901) (45’’x44”), actually refers to the same phenomenon that occurs during the summer. The whiteness of the snow prevents the winter polar night from becoming completely dark. Munch painted the dark silhouette of the trees in the foreground, the snow and tree shadows in the middle ground, a tan barn with a snow-covered roof, another stand of spruce trees, and the swirling waters of the fjord and coast in the distance. The sky is sunless, but not dark.  Munch’s use of black and cool blue colors produces the chill of the scene. Not at all depressing, the work is an expression of the beauty, power, and vast scope of nature’s many attitudes.

 

“Winter Landscape” (1901)

Munch painted numerous winter scenes, and like music, they are a theme and variations. “Winter Landscape” (1901) (32”x48”) focuses more on the field of white snow and the blue shadow cast by the spruce tree. Large red, brown, and black rocks stand out against the white snow. A row of shorter and taller trees in the distance also calls attention to the stars in the blue sky. Munch never tired of painting winter scenes

 

”New Snow” (1900-01)

“New Snow” (1900-01) (29’’x23’’) presents another view of a spruce forest. A wide road leads the viewer’s eye through the forest. It was well-used, but covered in fresh snow. Brown tree trunks are scattered through the forest and the spruce trees are painted fresh green. The stylized trees have just been covered by the stylized clumps of snow. Munch transformed the forest into something dreamlike, poetic, and timeless. 

Munch suffered a physical and mental breakdown sometime during the period of 1908 through 1909, and he checked himself into a private sanitarium. On recovering, he declared he had become a teetotaler and a vegetarian. He returned to the town of Kragero and settled in there. He wrote, “I am now working full time, I feel, it now seems as if I am at my artistic peak. Never has my work given me so much joy.”  He was honored in a Sonderbund exhibition in Copenhagen that included works by Van Gogh, Gauguin, and Picasso. Munch wrote, ”All the wildest things that have been painted in Europe are collected here–I am practically a pale classicist.”

Munch moved in 1916 to a country home in Ekely, near Oslo. The house, with a view of the city, sat on 11 acres that included an apple orchard. He built several studios. He lived a fairly isolated life and continued to paint landscapes. He nearly died during the 1919 Spanish flu epidemic.  During that time, he had several exhibitions in major European cities.

 

“Starry Night” (1922-24)

“Starry Night” (1922-24) (47”x39”) was one of the night sky series Munch painted from the top steps of his veranda. He often depicted himself as a lone shadow on the snow as he does here. Munch, the only figure in some of his paintings, is interpreted as loneliness and solitude which he preferred. He does include a view of the distant city. It is in the vastness of nature that human fragility, his own and humans in general, can be felt. There is a sense of life and time passing. 

In this later style, Munch used more varied and more vivid colors. The color red carries through the work: the red of the veranda in the foreground, the red in the bridge, the red house with the white windows in the middle ground, the pink sky created by the Sun’s position below the horizon, and the reds and pinks in the stars set in the dark blue heaven. He often depicted the constellations of Jupiter or the Pleiades that intensified his sense of the celestial world.

The expressionism of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” (1889) and Munch’s “Starry Night” often have been compared. Both works are considered masterpieces.

 

“Winter in Kragero” (1925-31)

Munch moved to Kragero in 1908 after his nervous breakdown. He found the light and environment stimulating. He began painting urban scenes in 1909. “Winter in Kragero” (1925-31) (54”x59”) is a depiction of the city from a distance. The large yellow building at the right of the canvas is set next to the snow-covered roof of a house, neither painted in detail. A tall tree and a very slim tree stand on the diagonal slope that leads to the city. Kragero’s buildings rise up the hillside, and behind them are mountains. Although he frequently included scenes of towns in his work, these later paintings place the town at a distance.   

The Nazis designated Munch’s work as “degenerate art” in 1937, seized 82 of his paintings, and sold them to raise money.  The paintings were taken from German museums and Jewish collections.  A lost and then found Munch work “Dance on the Beach” (1906) sold at auction in 2023 for $22 million. Munch painted until he died on January 23, 1944. He willed to the city of Oslo his artwork and his collection of texts: 1150 paintings, 17,800 prints, 4,500 watercolors and drawings, 13 sculptures, his notebooks, and the plays and poems that he had written. The writings were unavailable to the public until January 1, 2015.  Munch was a major catalyst in the development of the Expressionist style that continues to be of major significance in the progress of 20th and 21st Century art. 

“Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye…it also includes the inner pictures of the soul.” (Edvard Munch)


Beverly Hall Smith was a professor of art history for 40 years. Since retiring to Chestertown with her husband Kurt in 2014, she has taught art history classes at WC-ALL and the Institute of Adult Learning, Centreville. An artist, she sometimes exhibits work at River Arts. She also paints sets for the Garfield Theater in Chestertown.

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Filed Under: 00 Post To All Spies, Looking at the Masters, Spy Journal

Food Friday: On Your Marks!

December 5, 2025 by Jean Sanders

I stopped by the post office early yesterday morning, before 9:00, before the counter was open, to pick up some stamps from the machine in the lobby, and already there was a queue of grim folks, their arms full of awkwardly shaped holiday parcels. That was on December 4th – and Christmas is still a couple of weeks away. The U.S. Postal Service has announced we should have all our packages in the system by December 17th if we have even the vaguest hope that they will arrive by the 25th. There can be no more dilly-dallying. It’s time to get cracking. To echo The Great British Bake Off – “On your marks. Get set. Bake!”

I’ve given up perusing all the gift ideas foisted on us by magazines and websites – even Consumer Reports wanted to tell me what to buy over Black Friday. Ordinarily I like a good time waster; I love looking at the luxury items I will not be buying for myself. The New York Times has its Wirecutter – an excellent resource – they review porch furniture, laptop computers, steak knives and linen sheets among scads of important life choices. New York Magazine’s Strategist is a little more frivolous and light-hearted: life-altering mascaras, the best inexpensive underwear, scented candles, and the shoe sales of a lifetime. These are both enjoyable rabbit holes. But this year I am busy protesting corporate greed, so our Christmas gifts will have a distinctly homemade vibe. Cookies and books R Us in 2025. Plus we are about to move again in two weeks, and I won’t have the stamina for elaborate presents this year. Sorry, grandchildren! Nothing frivolous for you this year.

This weekend I am having a bake-a-thon, and will be whipping up batches of Christmas cookies, so I can go join the queue at the post office on Monday with my boxes of home-baked Christmas cookies. I won’t be a sour puss, though. I will have my arms full of sweetness for my loved ones.

I love fancy cookies. Give me a fistful of fancy, store-bought, pastel-colored macarons any day. Let me enjoy artfully piped royal frosting. Show me an abundance of tooth-cracking silver dragées, and glittery dusting sugars. And now – let’s talk reality. The best home-made cookies remind us of our own childhoods. We baked homely cookies that always looked a little wonky, but the best part was sampling them as we went along. Remember all those tiny tastes of dough and batter and icing? Ostensibly, we were learning how to decide if there was enough salt or vanilla or ginger in our mixtures. The reality was a sticky advance sampling of forbidden sweets. Remember smelling those cookies as they baked? Or that terrible aroma of burnt sugar cookie? There were so many lessons to be learned in a single wintery afternoon.

Production and assembly-line cookies are the easiest cookies for children, and consequently their adults. Mix, scoop, bake, repeat. Think of Mr. Gilbreth and Cheaper by the Dozen. And think of chocolate chip cookies, and gingersnaps, and slice and bake cookies. Chocolate chip cookies call for uniform scoops of dough onto parchment paper-covered sheet pans. I bake a couple of batches of chocolate chip cookies every month. The dough freezes nicely, so there is never a cookie shortage in this house. I scoop all the batter, freeze the balls, and can dip into the freezer whenever there is a situation that calls for chocolate. This is my favorite recipe. I consider that the addition of oatmeal makes it health food. Oatmeal Chocolate Chips

I always thought this was my mother’s recipe, but it turns out it is her sister’s. Either way, I am related to it. And I share it here every year.

Gingersnaps

Makes approximately 3 dozen cookies
Pre-heat the oven to 350°F

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon ground ginger
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
Sift together the dry ingredients above. This is crucial – follow the steps here.

Add the dry ingredients to:
3/4 cup softened butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses

Mix thoroughly. Roll mixture into small balls and then roll the balls in a bowl of granulated sugar. Flatten the balls onto parchment paper-lined cookie sheets with a small glass. Bake for 12-15 minutes. Cool on racks. They are quite delicious with a nice cold glass of milk. We just loved rolling the balls in the little Pyrex bowls of sugar, and then flattening the balls with jelly jars. Sometimes we would get creative, and use a drinking straw to make a hole in the flattened cookie – so we could use a ribbon and hang it from the Christmas tree.

Like many of the best secret family recipes, Snowball Cookies come from the Land O’Lakes test kitchens. They are tasty, reliable, and easy to make: Snowball Cookies

This is another family stalwart: Fudge. I love watching fudge being made in shops, on long marble-topped tables. At home, I prefer the easiest and most reliable method: following the recipe on the Carnation Sweetened Condensed Milk label. This year I am crushing some candy canes to add for a colorful, minty-fresh topping:Fudge

Baking cookies is therapeutic. You can relive some childhood memories, while creating some new ones, too. And you can share the holiday love. Leave some cookies for your letter carrier. Bring a plate across the street. We live in stressful times, and sometimes it is nice to pour a glass of milk, and sit down with a plate of crisp, sugary indulgence, and flip through some gift guides.

“Even when freshly washed and relieved of all obvious confections, children tend to be sticky.”
–Fran Lebowitz


Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past thirty years. A graduate of Washington College, where she majored in fine art, Jean started her work in design with the Literary House lecture program. The illustrations she contributes to the Spies are done with watercolor, colored pencil and ink.

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Filed Under: 00 Post To All Spies, 1 Homepage Slider, Food Friday, Spy Journal

Food Friday: Thanksgiving Redux

November 28, 2025 by Jean Sanders

 

This is a repeat of our almost-annual Food Friday Thanksgiving column, because we are still trying to recover from yesterday’s holiday feast. NPR still has Susan Stamberg’s Cranberry Relish recipe, although Susan died recently. We will remember her mother-in-law’s recipe fondly every Thanksgiving. Mama Stamberg’s Cranberry Relish

Somewhere on the internet yesterday you heard Arlo Guthrie singing Alice’s Restaurant for its 58th year. (Farewell to, Alice, too. “And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest”.) The Spy’s Gentle Readers get to enjoy the annual rite of leftovers as engineered when my son was in college. In in these fraught times it feels reassuring to remind ourselves of the simpler times. Here’s a wish for a happier, kinder world next Thanksgiving!

And here we are, the day after Thanksgiving. Post-parade, post-football, post-feast. Also post-washing up. Heavens to Betsy, what a lot of cleaning up there was. And the fridge is packed with mysterious little bundles of leftovers. We continue to give thanks that our visiting college student is an incessant omnivore. He will plow systematically through Baggies of baked goods, tin-foiled-turkey bits, Saran-wrapped-celery, Tupperware-d tomatoes and wax-papered-walnuts.

It was not until the Tall One was in high school that these abilities were honed and refined with ambitious ardor. His healthy personal philosophy is, “Waste not, want not.” A sentiment I hope comes from generations of hardy New Englanders as they plowed their rocky fields, dreaming of candlelit feasts and the TikTok stars of the future.

I have watched towers of food rise from his plate as he constructs Jenga arrangements of sweet, sour, crunchy and umami items with the same deliberation and concentration once directed toward Lego projects. And I am thankful that few of these will fall to the floor and get walked over in the dark. We also miss Luke the wonder dog, and his Hoovering abilities. What a good dog.

I have read that there may have been swan at the first Thanksgiving. How very sad. I have no emotional commitment to turkeys, and I firmly belief that as beautiful as they are, swans are mean and would probably peck my eyes out if I didn’t feed them every scrap of bread in the house. Which means The Tall One would go hungry. It is a veritable conundrum.

The Pilgrim Sandwich is the Tall One’s magnum opus. It is his turducken without the histrionics. It is a smorgasbord without the Swedish chef. It is truly why we celebrate Thanksgiving. But there are some other opinions out there in Food Land.

This is way too fancy and cloying with fussy elements – olive oil for a turkey sandwich? Hardly. You have to use what is on hand from the most recent Thanksgiving meal – to go out to buy extra rolls is to break the unwritten rules of the universe. There are plenty of Parker House rolls in your bread box right this minute – go use them up! This is a recipe for fancy pants folks. Honestly. Was there Muenster cheese on the dining room table yesterday? I think not.
Pilgrim Sandwiches

And if you believe that you are grown up and sophisticated, here is the answer for you. Thanksgiving leftovers for a grown up brunch: After Thanksgiving Brunch

Here are The Tall One’s ingredients for his signature Pilgrim Sandwich, but please feel free to embellish:
Toast (2 slices)
Turkey (2 slices)
Cranberry Sauce (2 teaspoons)
Gravy (2 tablespoons)
Mashed Potatoes (2 tablespoons)
Stuffing (2 tablespoons)
Barbecue Sauce (you can never have too much)
Bacon (if there is some hanging around)
Mayonnaise (if you must)
Lettuce (iceberg, for the crunch)
Celery stalk (more crunch)
Salt, pepper
A side bowl of potato chips

And now I am taking a walk before I consider making my own sandwich.

“Leftovers in their less visible form are called memories. Stored in the refrigerator of the mind and the cupboard of the heart.”
-Robert Fulghum


Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past thirty years. A graduate of Washington College, where she majored in fine art, Jean started her work in design with the Literary House lecture program. The illustrations she contributes to the Spies are done with watercolor, colored pencil and ink.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: 00 Post To All Spies, 1 Homepage Slider, Food Friday, Spy Journal

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