So, here I am again, back with words.  I’ve been holding my breath in deep tones, not taking the time for a pause to breathe.  In a sense, I’m seeking a new iteration, a new voice that is grounded in a minor key (remember that great Billy Bragg/Wilco cover of the Woody Guthrie song “Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key”?).

Words have come naturally in the past week in a way that they have not flowed in quite some time.  Different perhaps but also in my voice, a voice that has at times muted itself yet still contains multitudes and has much to offer the outside world.

As I sat listening to the wind coming through the trees in Golden Gate Park last night, the fog lilting down the streets under the flickering lights, I thought of my daughter’s eyes, her own capacity to begin writing.  I thought of my lover’s spark, of the small grace of a friend bringing me a home-cooked meal this week at 9 in the evening.  Of being held and holding myself.  At the risk of sounding new-agey (which I detest), the title of this site still holds promise.  “Crashed and on they break” but never ending.

I have warred with the ocean but have been returned to a place where ink mingles with the spark of love, of possibility, of venturing forth and lashing a raft together to drift on under a yellow moon.

Hope you’re interested in reading along on the journey.

–js