On Friday night, Feburary 12th, the living room of the home I share with my sister, Jeri, was engulfed in flames. I was absorbed in my writing (i am a author) when a live ash fell from the  head of my cigarette and rolled under the couch.  I didn’t notice this had happen until flames were leaping in the air.  Our living room is charred toast,  It looks like a dripping Dali watch.  My mask collection is gone. Cinders. Art pieces by my father, Walter James, Mike Cockrill, Tan Khanh Cao and Micheal Holman are now gone, too. I loved these pieces. As we have no property insurance (we lost to the practice of redlining in poor community), my sister and I are now in a dire situation. We face homelssness. We own our home.  Our mortgage is paid in full.  We need funds to rebuild as well as fix the plumbing, electricity and our roof.  We also need funds to live during this rehabilitation process.   If any of you among my friends would like to contribute towards our recovery and the massive reconstructive work ahead my sister and I would very much appreciate it. Thank you