The Real Drug, I Came To Believe,

A Good Home Must Be Made, Not Bought. In The End, It's Not Track Lighting Or A Sun Room That Brings Light Into A Kitchen.

There Is A Theme That Runs Through My Work, And That Is: The Toxic Property Of Keeping Secrets.

The Silence Was Part Of The Story I Wanted To Tell.

I'd Known Enough Flush Times And Lean Ones To Understand That Money Came And Went. And That One Day I'd Also Lose My Looks, My Seemingly Boundless Energy And Maybe The Ability To Catch The Eye Of An Attractive Man And The Audacity To Rollerblade. My Name Would Be Forgotten. So Would Bad Reviews, And Good Ones. But Loving A Child Is Something That Lasts. Long After All The Rest Is Gone, That's What Endures.

Wherever It Is You Make Your Home, There Is Always This Other Place, This Other Person, Calling To You. Come To Me. Come Back.