Every Time I Deny Myself

It Is A Grief Over The Fate Of The Earth That Contains Within It A Joyful Hope, That We Might Reclaim This Earth.

In My Lifetime I Have Seen Democracy Begin To Expand, Not Only To Include Those Who Have Been Excluded, But To Provide A Listening Arena, A Vocabulary, An Intelligent Reception For Stories That Have Been Buried. Not Just Stories Of The Disenfranchised And The Marginalized, But Marginalized And Disenfranchised Histories Even In The Lives Of The Accepted And The Privileged.

Society, Like Nature, Is One Body, Really.

A Story Is Told As Much By Silence As By Speech.

I Love That Moment In Writing When Language Falls Short. There Is Something More There. A Larger Body. Even By The Failure Of Words I Begin To Detect Its Dimensions. As I Work The Prose, Shift The Verbs, Look For New Adjectives, A Different Rhythm, Syntax, Something New Begins To Come To The Surface.