God Forgives Us. ... Who Am I

To Create One Must Be Willing To Be Stone Stupid, To Sit Upon A Throne On Top Of A Jackass And Spill Rubies From One’s Mouth. Then The River Will Flow, Then We Can Stand In The Stream Of It Raining Down.

The Psyches And Souls Of Women Also Have Their Own Cycles And Seasons Of Doing And Solitude, Running And Staying, Being Involved And Being Removed, Questing And Resting, Creating And Incubating, Being Of The World And Returning To The Soul-place.

If You Have Yet To Be Called An Incorrigable, Defiant Woman, Don't Worry, There Is Still Time

What Is That Which Can Never Die It Is That Faithful Force That Is Born Into Us That One That Is Greater Than Us That Calls New Seed To The Open And Battered And Barren Places So That We Can Be Resown. It Is This Force In Its Insistence In Its Loyalty To Us In Its Love Of Us In Its Most Often Mysterious Ways That Is Far Greater Far More Majestic And Far More Ancient Than Any Heretofore Ever Known.

I Learned About The Sacred Art Of Self Decoration With The Monarch Butterflies Perched Atop My Head, Lightning Bugs As My Night Jewelry, And Emerald-green Frogs As Bracelets.