Nora Bateson 2019 For years I have written about the systemic crises of our times in terms of tenderness, and rawness. I have exposed my inner world in its morphing potential. I have felt it important to offset the many graphs and articles that blaze facts of climate change, people trafficking, addiction, immigration crisis, racism

sense making sneaking in   If place makes me Then maybe I don’t exist. And if the memory of redwood dust is enough to find outlines Then maybe I am still 9   Home. Is a long story, And I am the ink, the song, the characters. I am the shoes. the dusty windowsill, and

(This is a chapter from my book Small Arcs of Larger Circles, published by Triarchy Press, 2016) I would love you as a bird loves flight, as meat loves salt, as a dog loves chase, as water finds its own level. Or I would not love you at all. —Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries   In

Written Feb 1 2019 Is there space in the keyboard strokes for the pink of life? Assembling letters into words into images that reach into feelings, –inviting memories, things once known, regrets, and touching the purple bruises of this moment. Is there a chance now to say what we have known and previously tried not