I had a little Sorrow. It stayed until the morrow. Then I talked directly to it, As if I truly knew it. Little Sorrow, how are you? Little Sorrow, why so blue? --
View writingI had a little sorrow. It’s fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that sorrow went My heart was sure to go. I had a little sorrow Made out of Life’s fine clay. When it was dry and ready, The…
View writingIn the beginning were the fates spinning their threads. They spin our karma, our Kali-Ma, Maya, magic. They are weaving the dream of this life into form. They weave the elements i The thread was not made of ordinary fiber,…
View writingIt wasn't that I was scared. I was absolutely terrified. I laughed, to cover it up. "This is no laughing matter--it's very serious!" said Delia. Her jaw tensed as she kept her eyes on the twists and turns of the…
View writingIs that even remotely possible for me? To be not scared? Looking back through her decades of a life filled with chances taken, choices made, bets placed ( some lost but mostly won) she sat in the comfort of her…
View writingFlore. "Where would you go with a one-way ticket?" the improv instructor gave as the starting line. Flore exhaled, closing her eyes a beat longer than a blink. She took a step forward from her place in the circle. "I'm…
View writingShould he be Talon or blue? Was he the conquered or conqueror? He stood on the tower and felt who he was stretched in so many directions, it was impossible to see. He was both. He was all. He was…
View writing[continuing with characters in my novel!] June was born May 31st to schoolteachers who couldn't wait for summer. Her mother, Savannah, taught fourth grade forever — it's the perfect age, she would say, the world hasn't gotten too loud yet.…
View writingLast night, I watched an artsy German film whose strongest element was the main character, a preteen age boy who was constantly watching what the adults were doing and wondering why. It was like my childhood experience with adults, especially…
View writingSitting here, obedient, I wonder when will my people release me? That young squirrel,-- is that what they called it? --should really know better that to invade my yard. I admit it. I'm selfish, territorial. I'm made this way! To…
View writingI wrote and produced, but didn't have the idea for my last film, THE DREAMERS AND I. Because I couldn't touch back to that moment of realizing, "This could be a movie!" I never understood what DREAMERS was about, almost…
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