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inspiration

With Eyes Upon Skies in Far Better Places

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I have seen my own life through the eyes of another; I saw myself flailing and running for cover. I chose my own themes, what hats that I wore, what steps that were taken, upon roads that I bore. But I saw to believe what I chose to alight, that the eye is attuned to the language of light.

HOW I BECAME A WRITER

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I was an infant of six months when she died. There are no accessible memories to speak of, only a faint and foggy familiarity when I think of her: I was seventeen when I found her journals, written during the last years of her life.