1. “When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Bronte who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to. Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.” –Virginia Woolf (I had never read the first part of the quotation before. Thank you, Christine Lincoln!)
2. Christine Lincoln and the Witches Being Ducked. What a powerful Sisterhood. I have fallen in love with you all. Your magenta hair is a halo, an aura of Shine, matching the passionate person within. I am in awe of you.
3. All those images. I want to write them all here, but they don’t belong to me. I will carry them with me, deep, deep within. Such story-making.
4. The tenacity of morning glory. Over a week ago, Jon cut down the vine that was climbing up the dead sunflower in front of the house. The leaves on the vine that continue on up the balcony have long since withered, but the flowers were still blooming today!
5. The heartbeat of a moth. I held a small moth on my finger this morning, and I could feel its life force, its heartbeat, like a small motor quivering.
So much love.