2022. the year in dreams…

I dreamt of liberation and of fires. I dreamt of you loving me and me loving you. I dreamt of fields that we run the way our dogs run, tails wagging, legs churning, driven almost mad by the possibilities. When I was a teenager, a friend once described heaven this way: If you put every single person in a room with the creative instrument of their choice for one year and then on the same day you let them all out, that day would be heaven. I have thought about this in so many different ways in the decades since I heard it. Today I think that it is not the creative room that is the pleasure, but it is the moment…



This is where I experiment. This is where I learn to write.

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