The double edge of hope – being a creature of story and of destiny, being a good solid teller of tales. These days I find myself wondering how close to the truth my art can take me, really? The truth of what my life was? What it is now and what it might be? My…

When I think of gratitude, I think of my mother’s sadness. A prayer I made one night for her wellness. I think of the Earth and picking mint. When I think of exchange, I think of this tending. I think of a coin between the teeth of a shaman, understanding, forgiveness and gratitude. I think…