A sensual life is a ghostly existence where you live on the surface and your soul passes through everything, touching nothing.

If you want your own distinctive voice, you first have to become someone.

I'm not afraid of the opinions of others - but of being needed and coming up short.

The abyss you stare into and that stares back at you is your reflection in the mirror - we all have it - that shadow self - that dark heart.

Dark furrow lines grid the snow, punctuated by orange abacus beads of pumpkins - now the crows own the field.

And not out of fear or loneliness, but only to find myself again... for we have come too far my Life, to turn back now.

Summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows.