If You Have Yet To Be Called

It Is In The Middle Of Misery That So Much Becomes Clear. The One Who Says, 'nothing Good Came Of This' Is Not Yet Listening.

We Wish To Make Rage Into A Fire That Cooks Things Rather Than A Fire Of Conflagration.

I Come From A Long Line Of Tellers: Mesemondok, Old Hungarian Women Who Tell While Sitting On Wooden Chairs With Their Plastic Pocketbooks On Their Laps, Their Knees Apart, Their Skirts Touching The Ground... And Cuentistas, Old Latina Women Who Stand, Robust Of Breast, Hips Wide, And Cry Out The Story Ranchera Style. Both Clans Storytell In The Plain Voice Of Women Who Have Lived Blood And Babies, Bread And Bones. For Them, Story Is A Medicine Which Strengthens And Arights The Individual And The Community.

Go Out In The Woods, Go Out. If You Don't Go Out In The Woods Nothing Will Ever Happen And Your Life Will Never Begin.

Dogs Are The Magicians Of The Universe.