I love it when the dark bottle of night spills out, and the Moon writes in chalk about us.
Ambition or contentment? This simple question led me back to a more balanced view of life and put me in touch with the Me I used to know.
If you want your own distinctive voice, you first have to become someone.
It must be hard when you are a beautiful woman and no one will look at your soul.
The winter is kind and leaves red berries on the boughs for hungry sparrows.
Dark furrow lines grid the snow, punctuated by orange abacus beads of pumpkins - now the crows own the field.