The language of my soul is a mishmash of all the places my family comes from.
Elizabeth continues to ponder creativity and her love/hate relationship with it.
What will you do with all of this outrageous beauty?
All my life I have been trying to get rid of my collection of stones
From the stories of the women of the Hebrew Bible I learned that I am not only me. I am a collection of women. Covered and free.
is there a loving home out there somewhere?or is it this very air I breathe?is there any quest at all,or...
and it’s so fervent it’s clear it won’t last long and I wonder if that’s a message.
