Thursday, July 10, 2008


Those normal clouds, this common air, participate in and are the cause of a surging resistance.--C. Harryman, Gardener of Stars

Trailing along, she bends grass, slithers through weeds, walks over dirt humming change. Pale and unmoving, lemon-scented air past her ears, through eyes, she decides not to become one unknown and trampled, but to march solid, quell fear, and create a determined identity. Each shaded step rings across a spectrum of silent language. Each layer, a body of texture and promise.

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