People ask me: why do you write about food, and eating and drinking? Why don’t you write about the struggle for power and security, and about love, the way the others do? The easiest answer is to say that, like most other humans, I am hungry. —M. F. K. Fisher
Tonight I am hungry for quiet, for stitching, for reading. I seem to be empty of words, but I will tell you that there are some beautiful altars happening out there in the ethers.
Then there’s this altar and this altar and this altar and this altar.
Just a small sampling of beauty being created all over the place, one altar at a time.