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Dear rest, It's so peaceful here. It's quiet and uncomplicated and serene. I love it. Rosy and fresh and cool. Like a good book. Like a song. A bowl of really sweet cherries. Yeah, that's it. Cherries, like cherries. Postcard: Acrylic paint, shadow play, plus a collaged copy of

Dear Intuition, The voices made me do it! Love, V Last night I had the sudden urge to read pages from a journal that I wrote 11 years ago. Aside from the questionable prose style, and the pretentious critique of Jung, and the efforts to

Dear feet, Watch your step. I think about that for you because I see you racing each other shouting, “me first, no me first!” And if feels odd to be here; like getting to this moment was suddenly upon me. It’s funny how