<= 2003.09.25

2003.09.27 =>

the undiscovered country

I just finished participating in a study that asked me to examine my own feelings about death and mortality. The metaphor I kept coming back to was a boat launched into an infinite black ocean. Ice on the horizon. Dear readers, you are perhaps on the shore, waving hankies.

Enough with the rejection letters. Don't these people understand I'm not going to live forever?

 

<= 2003.09.25

2003.09.27 =>

up (2003.09)

The Warm South
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