Even An Ice Cream Parlor - A

I Wonder If I Don't Give Too Much Of Myself To Writing: I Am Always Half Where I Am; The Other Half Is Feeding The Furnace, Kick-starting The Heat Of Creativity. I Am Making Love With Someone But At The Same Time I'm Noticing How This Graceful Hand Across My Belly Might Just Fit In With The Memory Of Lilacs In Albuquerque In 1974.

I Love And Care About Literature, And Great Writers Are Our Teachers. You're Studying Their Mind When You Read Their Work.

We Are Searching For The Core Of Our Lives; Our Culture Intuits That Writing, That Ancient Activity, Might Be The Pathway...awakening Does Not Feed Ego's Needs And Desires; It Pulverizes The Self. Our Society Couldn't Knowingly Bear Such Reduction, So We've Tricked Ourselves Into The Same Path But Call It Writing.

If You Are Not Afraid Of The Voices Inside You, You Will Not Fear The Critics Outside You.

I Write Because I Am Alone And Move Through The World Alone. No One Will Know What Has Passed Through Me... I Write Because There Are Stories That People Have Forgotten To Tell, Because I Am A Woman Trying To Stand Up In My Life... I Write Out Of Hurt And How To Make Hurt Okay; How To Make Myself Strong And Come Home, And It May Be The Only Real Home I'll Ever Have.