The Moment Of Change Is The Only

No Woman Is Really An Insider In The Institutions Fathered By Masculine Consciousness. When We Allow Ourselves To Believe We Are, We Lose Touch With Parts Of Ourselves Defined As Unacceptable By That Consciousness; With The Vital Toughness And Visionary Strength Of The Angry Grandmothers, The Fierce Market Women Of The Ibo's Women's War, The Marriage-resisting Women Silk Workers Of Pre-revolutionary China, The Millions Of Widows, Midwives, And The Women Healers Tortured And Burned As Witches For Three Centuries In Europe.

It Will Take All Your Heart, It Will Take All Your Breath It Will Be Short, It Will Not Be Simple

The Unconscious Wants Truth, As The Body Does. The Complexity And Fecundity Of Dreams Come From The Complexity And Fecundity Of The Unconscious Struggling To Fulfill That Desire. The Complexity And Fecundity Of Poetry Come From The Same Struggle.

As A Society In Turmoil, We Are Going To See More, And More Various, Attempts To Simulate Order Through Repression; And Art Is A Historical Target For Such Efforts.

Sleeping. Turning In Turn Like Planets Rotating In Their Midnight Meadow: A Touch Is Enough To Let Us Know We're Not Alone In The Universe, Even In Sleep.