Licorice, by Liz Bruno
Like the root, Licorice is strong, sweet, and distinctive. A late-bloomer’s coming of age story, it is childish and playful; it romps through jokes, metaphors, and philosophers. It is also bitter, leaving an aftertaste of lingering memories and struggle.
Licorice is for those interested in female narratives, reinvention, and alternate versions of strength. It is poetry about complexity, silence, marriage, motherhood, and making sense of the lived female experience. Licorice focuses on the quest to be known and loved. It follows the detours of pleasure, confusion, obsession, self-loathing, depression, and hope.
In Chinese medicine, licorice root is used in moderating toxicity and treating urgency. Licorice should be used in the same way. It is edible philosophy, digestible in fits and starts. It is about how people consume and fuel each other – and how we consume and fuel ourselves.