meditations on life & writing
an activist/poet/mother/writer's journal
Thursday, April 28, 2005

LATE AND NEVER

I am always late.

Always late.

Always, always, late.

But late is subjective.

Late

is

subjective.

I may be delayed

but I

am

never

N-E-V-E-R

Don't sleep on the sister.

And while I'm at it: peace to all God's righteous children committed in the struggle to commit serious, serious art: Amel and Laru Larrieux, Goapele, Maxwell, Julie Dexter, Cassendre Xavier, Me'Shell, Marie, Erykah Badu, Sade, the Fertile Ground crew, Jill, Rachelle Ferrell and any other righteous person who knows that

late

and

art

do not belong in the same sentence.

who knows

that late

is

subjective.

We will wait

and

we will rise

and

we will make

this place

holy.



PEACE!

A.

shared with you at 6:19 PM by Angel


Now That's Worth Writing Down

When we let Spirit lead us, it is impossible to know where we are being lead. All we know, all we can believe, all we can hope is that we are going home. That wherever Spirit takes us is where we live.....Alice Walker, Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth.


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Excerpts From "...and then there were BUTTERFLIES"


Birth of A Novel

Ushering Words: How Novels Are Born


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