When I stand alone on a hillcrest, watching the sun burn itself to sleep, and feel connection to something larger than my own story; when I breathe in Child’s Pose listening to Jeff Buckley’s 'Hallelujah' in my bedroom the night before yet 'another' eye surgery; when I sit on the gallery floor ...
Tonight, the moonbeams fall on the fury of your raw inspiration. You let this Shakti-blaze consume you for these last weeks, and rightfully so. You have colored outside of the lines they have drawn for you. You have kept your eyes wide and your heart open. Now, my young one, you must gather ...