imagination experiments of a stardust yogini
From the grief of this year rose gratitude. A deep gratitude for my life, for human connection (however brief), for the bond with light and plants and trees and air, with animals, for the hard work and devotion it takes to get out there into the woods, to push myself up rocks and dirt, to […]
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The end doesn’t make the experience any less valuable.
Read MoreI do not, cannot stop myself. Grief. My body trembles for weeks. My hands shake and I cannot eat without effort. Who am I? I have to keep walking, that was all I know.
Read MoreI also want to get a good camera and get into the woods and take photos. I need to buy some equipment (both photography and camping gear and probably, eventually, gulp, a vehicle).
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As I was cycling home, I realized that there are a lot of people who were pivotal in (saving) my life during that time (the 90s) in New York – and so many of those people who were important to my development as a writer and artist and loving human being, I will never see again. There I was, pedaling slowly up the mesa, into the sunset, with cars flying past me and tears streaming down my face.
I felt awake, and more alive than I have felt in a long while.
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holly troy ~ sacred folly 