Her days come and go like birds, her dreams like days.

I've found you can go on writing in the dark, and that the act of writing itself, that mysterious, dangerous, intoxicating, absorbing, nourishing magician's trick, that act of creation is its own light.

The futility of action does not absolve one from the failure to act. -

There are all kinds of under-represented groups in the literary establishment.

There is always a gap between conception and execution. We keep writing in the burning hope of closing that gap before we die.

That is where homeland is. In that shifting space, kinfolk know one another by secret signs; and wherever kinfolk meet, homeland soil coalesces about their feet in the mysterious way that coral cays, like seabirds pausing in flight, anchor themselves to the Barrier Reef.

Her days come and go like birds, her dreams like days.