Carving out an identity for yourself is important so I’m trying to do that as well.
Why, observe the thing; turn it over; hold it up to the window; count the beads, long, oval, like some seaweed bulbs, each an amulet. See the tint; it’s very old; like clots of sunshine,...
She wept a river of tears holy water, sent to soften the sharp edges of sorrow a gentle hollowing out, carving new chambers in her hearta hallowed vessel for holding sacred, the tears of others…
—Kate Mullane Robertson
Trees spend all day looking up at God.
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