Can You Stop Your Mother From Singing

If Only I Had Discipline, But Alas, It Is Only An Obsessive-compulsive Trait And The Beauty Of Habit That Causes Me To Return Again And Again To My Work.

I Truly Think That You Can't Go And Stalk Your Material, You Have To Leave The Door Open And Whatever Chooses You, Chooses You. You Can't Go And Wrestle It To The Ground.

To Think About Love And Passion And Political Correctness All Together, It Doesn't Work. Art Has To Go Way Past The Political To Be Effective.

Be Lovely And Do No Harm.

We Have These Earthly Bodies. We Don't Know What They Want. Half The Time, We Pretend They Are Under Our Mental Thumb, But That Is The Illusion Of The Healthy And The Protected. Of Sedate Lovers. For The Body Has Emotions It Conceives And Carries Through Without Concern For Anyone Or Anything Else. Love Is One Of Those, I Guess. Going Back To Something Very Old Knit Into The Brain As We Were Growing. Hopeless. Scorching. Ordinary.