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I write my life to know my life. When I write my life, the inner truth comes out. It’s like when I draw, a barrier disappears. Or fades to the background. And suddenly I’m in touch with this other vibratory field. This other awareness that rises to the surface and makes itself known. Continue reading
Did you know that drawing can cure stomach aches? Me either! But apparently it does. At first I thought I might have had a case of the New Year Blahs. Except that would have been out of character for me. The other idea that came was too awful – a sudden onset of gluten intolerance. I would hate that. Continue reading
The hand once thrown up in despair, is now ready to catch an idea, should it float through the air ~~~ Continue reading
Whenever I looked out the window I saw two scenes, the one from the present, and this other one, so obviously from the past. From Brooklyn as it once was. Continue reading
It was a tiny shop. There was no one there but a woman in a sari standing behind the glass counter. She smiled at me as I came in. Or rather, her face lit up, causing me to wonder if I had been the only customer that day. I smiled back. She wasn’t young, somewhere in her forties I would have thought. Her long sleek black hair fell in a thick braid down her back. I pointed to the earrings in the window and asked if she could bring them in for me to see. Continue reading