The Work Of The World Is Common

Art Is A Game Only If You Playat It, A Mirror That Reflects From The Inside Out.

If What We Change Does Not Change Us We Are Playing With Blocks.

Learning To Love Differently Is Hard, Love With The Hands Wide Open, Love With The Doors Banging On Their Hinges, The Cupboard Unlocked, The Windroaring And Whimpering In The Rooms.

What A Richly Colored Strong Warm Coat Is Woven When Love Is The Warp And Work Is The Woof.

You Are Built To Pull A Cart, To Lift A Heavy Load And Bear It, To Haul Up The Long Slope, And So Am I, Peasant Bodies, Earthy, Solid Shapely Dark Glazed Clay Pots That Can Stand On The Fire.