october
A leaf, clinging to a spindly branch, shudders in the wind off Lake Mendota—a silhouette against the lead sky, sinking into gray water.
Unknowing, I just am who I am: I live, I write.
Then the wind gusts and I lose my way.
For thirty years.
a living archive of creative + contemplative practice
october
A leaf, clinging to a spindly branch, shudders in the wind off Lake Mendota—a silhouette against the lead sky, sinking into gray water.
Unknowing, I just am who I am: I live, I write.
Then the wind gusts and I lose my way.
For thirty years.
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