There is no light at the end of the world only solemn-wounds and trees that haunt in the heavenly country where I live. Everyone suffers at...
I woke up with my hands full of leaves. Marakana and Lonmin are all over the news. My brother the wolf guy, the lone wolf, Wolf...
I think of total exhaustion and being. How it takes me from winter to summer. Then I think of you and the space, the gap you...
The hospital is a lovesick climate. The blessing of an emerald day. Kite-flying. The fabric of a stream. The hidden wings of a child. The swell...
There is a dwelling that I exist in. This far out between heaven and hell she is, my mother is still beautiful. She was beautiful, and...
It is the sun-drenched space that strikes me first in the car. There seems to be so much of it. Almost immediately I fall in love...
I’ve been away a long time. I’ve gone to heaven and back. The hostile folly of the handmaiden’s rope twisted in my hands. The flaming spirit...
Jhumpa Lahiri is an impossible beauty. I started reading her again during lockdown remembering The Namesake and The Lowland. I take pictures of female writers like...
Women novelists or rather women who write know about pain as subject matter. Pain. Nobody knows about pain or the memory of pain or that temporary...
The passionate outsider is people. Male people, female people, the displaced, dispossessed who live within the boundaries and structures of psychological extremes. In a broken world...