I am entering a phase of cultivation, symbolized by putting down the clippers for as long as I can. Watch as my hair and I grow.
Monday, September 19, 2011
(I wrote a bunch of things today, and then I decided this is the only bit I want to share.)
I am a volcano, words and feelings a soup in my belly, bubbling, intermingling, wanting to move up through my mouth and come out and kiss the air. What about the village? We can't cover the people in your lava, we can't coat them with your ash. They won't survive it.