I write in a small office at home.

And what I was feeling was the wonder Of being more than me, of being more Than mere here and now allowed I had become a shining star, a burning nova Exploded with love Flying through an endlessly Expanding universe Away from the me that was Toward a me that is beyond Understanding.

I think that if we can't go back, then we should try even harder to go forward. And I do want to go forward, to a place where loving someone because they have a gentle smile and a friendly hello is as easy as it once was.

On the streets of the city They have taken my Who-I-Am As well as my What-I-Was And now I am desperate for them both Again

I had seen the ballet of Swan Lake as a child but it was as an adult, when I saw a production featuring Erik Bruhn, that I first noticed how significant a part the ever-present threat of violence played. This juxtaposition of great beauty and grace with a backdrop of pure evil stayed with me for years.

The best time to cry is at night, when the lights are out and someone is being beaten up and screaming for help.

The movie is more real in so many ways than the life I am leading. No, that’s not true. I just desperately wish this was only a movie.