worn and soft, brittle and shatteredLittle ho(l)e prayers I’ve thrown the bones on the table and all I can see is languages of erosion speaking from very distinct embodiments. As I stare and stare and attempt to tap into the meeting points —the shared voice— the message that keeps on coming through is “that which…
Wildness and belongingsIt’s Saturday morning, about 11am, I’m sitting at my new bureau with my freshly brewed coffee (I sense a piece on coffee snobbery coming up) and Kindness’ Softness as a Weapon is playing in the background. It’s sunny outside and I already did yoga and had a breakfast of boiled…
