Forever Home

East of a little town and down out past the hedges and burrows and scarlet-veined ivy there are two tobacco brown rivers that slit the soil and as they roll off into a backdrop of innumerable golden bushels of wheat and grain and pebbled soybeans there lies a treasured slice of triangulated land that sways rhythmically and sweet beneath the swarms of larks and teals and red breasted mergansers and they all funnel into a conflux where starlings swirl and trails amalgamate and muddy waters gurgle…

The Latticework

I’m the kind of person to whom feelings are more important than logic. I seek exhilaration. This means my walls are pretty thin and that I’m willing to take risks and that I subscribe to psychically relieving mantras that drum to unearthly beats.

Flow

In Self-Explorations:

Flow is a dance. It’s not surrender, but a willingness to be vulnerable. When flow happens, you are reaching a prolonged moment of perfection in which you are guided by something larger than logic.