grasping at thin air

american sentence, artist, beauty, creativity, diary, sustainabilityLeave a comment

and I am a fool,
there are no angels here —
only ghosts . . .

only ghosts

October 12, 2022
Elizaville, New York

Posted by

Holly hails from an illustrious lineage of fortune tellers, yogis, folk healers, troubadours and poets of the fine and mystical arts. Shape-shifting Tantric Siren of the Lunar Mysteries, she surfs the ebbs and flows of the multiverse on the Pure Sound of Creation. Her alchemy is Sacred Folly — revolutionary transformation through Love, deep play, Beauty, and music.

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