Zoraida Haibi Mother and Daughter Zoraida Haibi was born and raised in New York City, NY and moved to Miami, FL where she grew up and currently lives. Haibi’s work encompasses the dynamics of relationships with the figures by infusing symbolic imagery and mixed media objects. These images are “quilted” together to compose an allegorical composition.
Author: Mom Egg Review
Jerrice J. Baptiste Two Images Top, “Pregnant Mother and Daughter in Enchanted Garden” Bottom, “Pregnant Mother and Son on Exotic Beach at Sunset” Jerrice J Baptiste is an artist, poet, author of nine books. Her watercolor drawings on paper have been accepted in Las Laguna Art Gallery exhibit in California, MER, Spirit Fire Review, Jerry Jazz Musician Magazine, Synchronized Chaos. Jerrice has been featured in August- September 2025 as a solo artist at The Mountain Top Library in Tannersville NY and will exhibit again on January 2026, also at The Duck Pond Gallery Port Ewen, NY, March 2026.
Sally Stanton Family Tree Sally Stanton holds an MFA from Pine Manor College and a BFA from Massachusetts College of Art and Design. Her work has been shown in exhibitions around New England including the Portland Museum of Art, Waterfall Arts, Harlow Center for the Arts, New Hampshire Art Association Biennial, select galleries, and public libraries. Her abstract figurative narratives reflect dreams, memories, and the human stories that filter in from the unquiet world. She lives in Northport, Maine.
Narmin Kassam Beautiful Voice Narmin Kassam is a Canadian mixed-media artist whose layered collage works on wood panels explore women’s empowerment, cultural identity, and intergenerational memory. Using handmade paper and paint, her practice merges personal narrative with themes of resilience and belonging. Kassam has exhibited across Canada and internationally, with solo exhibitions and public murals in major cities. Her work has been widely published, and she was a finalist for the 2025 Women United Art Prize (Fibre & Collage).
Juan Sebastian “Zeb” Restrepo How We Learn Juan Sebastian “Zeb” Restrepo is a visual artist whose work explores care, power, and vulnerability through painting and drawing. His practice often focuses on intimate, domestic scenes that examine how bodies learn safety, control, and connection. Through simple forms and quiet tension, Restrepo reflects on teaching, observation, and the emotional weight of everyday gestures.
Helen Imogen Field Miscarriage to Birth: Horny and Healing Helen Imogen Field (nee Williams) was serious about art in her teens but was deflected into science. She entered evening classes for oil portraiture at the Art Student’s League of New York. John Williams, her uncle, taught old masters methods, which helped with tonality, backgrounds and observation, creating works of all kinds and sizes. Late in life she attended the Leith School of Art (Contemporary, Figures) then the Royal School of Drawing in 2025.
Bethany Bruno Love, Without the Ashes I come from a long line of women who held their pain quietly, who carried too much and asked for too little. Irish women. Women with too many kids, too little money, too much grief. Women who smoked through the storm, who buried sorrow beneath casseroles and silence. Women who waited for bad news in kitchens filled with cigarette smoke and folded it into their days like laundry. Women who clenched their jaws and passed down trauma like heirlooms. I was raised by one of them. My mother never drank, but she smoked like…
Kathy Curto Cool and Low in the 70s The pills are moist and a little swollen. My mother carries them into my room using the bottom of her apron as a shovel. Picture this: an apron, stained in all the right and wrong places, with gravy, grease and grime, now being used as a fabric dustpan for tiny, pink pills. That’s what she calls them, his ulcer pills. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” I chirp, acting like a highfalutin bigshot shaking my head, my hand on my hip. I’m about twelve. “For Chrissakes,” my mother says, “stop carrying…
Susan Finch How to Mourn Your Father When You’re a Mom Sometimes you cry while driving to school and soccer practice and basketball practice and the PTO meeting and the doctor’s appointment and the dentist’s appointment and the spring band concert (where a colleague will offer condolences for your loss and then ask immediately how your father died. Tell him the softest version of the story, he never woke up from surgery, but not about the brutal days in the ICU where your father was in constant care, and you witnessed all the failed efforts to save him). Sometimes…
Alisha Goldblatt Tracing the Faultlines We can’t choose our family, of course, nor is the warmth and reliability of our neighbors ever a guarantee. But somehow on this street of mostly transplanted now-Mainers, we won the lottery. Never mind that behind our home is a hideous chain-link barrier (no good fences here), and the residents in that house obsess over boundaries and water drainage; the homes we face are full of the best people. After my Zoom conference with the geneticist, it was a welcome relief to head out to one of their lake houses about an hour north…