The Quest for the Cover. One does not simply just slap a photo on a cover and add text. A KARJAKA cover is forged from the eternal springs of the inner soul of the subject being captured, and the crew so privileged to witness. A moment in time.

Cue the bells, dim the lights, and dust off the ‘emergency’ credit card. Because once again, holiday season is upon us. The final six weeks of the year tend to conjure up equal parts excitement and dread. Parties? Yes. Presents? Hell yes. That extra layer of fat on your stomach? Nooooooo. On top of the tinsel, cookies, and questionable sweater choices this season brings, there seems to be one other constant: alcohol. You’re almost certainly going to drink more than you would any other time of the year. More booze, more often, earlier in the evening. Plus all the junk food and snack binges that come with it. Despite all the potential disastrous fun that’s lurking, you actually can have a great time this holiday season – see your friends, eat and drink, stay out too late – without being hung over all month. And without getting fat by Christmas. But you need a strategy. At the risk of sounding like a Debbie Downer, if you want to party, you’ve got to follow a few rules. Structure and guidelines will give you freedom.

When I was a teen and a devoted thespian I would dream about living in New York City. My friends and I would bop around the hallways of our high school singing showtunes and talking about what musical roles we’d all do well in. A few of us went on to pursue those shared dreams and had successful careers on Broadway. For me though, something else was calling. I didn’t know clearly what that was at that time, all I knew then was that I wanted, achingly, to get out of town and leave the nest.

There’s a moment every parent remembers — the first time their child shows a spark. Not just interest, but intensity. For me, it wasn’t just Teagan dancing in the living room or singing in the car. It was the way she focused when it came to movement, how she listened to music like it was a language she already spoke. She wasn’t just performing — she was interpreting. And I knew, even then, that I wasn’t raising a hobbyist. I was raising an artist. But here’s the thing: every mom thinks their kid is special. That’s not the story. The story is what it’s like to raise a young child who’s already making choices that will shape her career — and her identity — before she’s even old enough to drive. The story is what it means to be a single mother trying to guide, protect, and sometimes just keep up with a child who’s growing faster than the world knows how to hold.