let's start this Cinderella long cold winter cubist style

"For this is the truth about our soul,...our self who fish-like inhabits deep seas and plies among obscurities threading her way between the boles of giant weeds, over sun-flickered spaces and on and on into gloom, cold, deep, inscrutable."
Virginia Woolf in Mrs. Dalloway...man, I miss the books that are molding in Costa Rica.

let us call a spade a spade. 2011 was a tough year. debilitating and humbling.

"Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language...At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day." Rilke in Letters to a Young Poet.


som said…
i feel myself inching closer to the woolf.

and taken in by the stone...


p.s. and what a fab coat it is!
Walks on Fire said…
inching, crawling, to the woolf is what we do. it becomes our shape. til, like the stone, possibly later comes not only wrinkles...but poems. lots and lots of poems.

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