I come to writing from hearing great stories as a child in Louisiana, where the mark of a person was his or her ability to be a raconteur. I also come to writing as a professional actress whose body has been trained to listen and smell and inhabit characters without judgment.

What they don't know is that I went over the edge years ago, and lived to tell the tale.

Can you reclaim that free-girl smile, or is it like virginity- once you loose it, that's it?

I now know that things I always thought I could depend on can crash in an instant. Because of the love that I have been shown, I now know what it means to be 'beloved.' I now know that no breath is to be taken for granted.

A scent that disturbs me and delights me. It smells like ripe pears, vetiver, a bit of violet and something else- something spicy almost biting and exotic.

It's life. You don't figure it out. You just climb up on the beast and ride.

I want to lay up like that, to float unstructured, without ambition or anxiety. I want to inhabit my life like a porch.