Saturday, Jan. 24, 2004 - 5:33 pm
Um... I'm sorry.
This relationship just isn't working for me.
I'm at www.dailypreciousness.org now. So change that bookmark.
I found this poem that perfectly explains my love of storytelling. It describes the wonder and mystery I have for the oral tradition.
No, silly. The other oral tradition. Jeez!
***
this story starts
this is where the story starts, in this threadbare room. the walls are exploding. the windows have turned into telescopes. moons and stars are magnified in this room. the sun hangs over the mantelpiece. i stretch out my hand and reach the corners of the world. the world is bundled up in this room. beyond the door, where the river is, where the roads are, we shall be. we can take the world with us when we go and sling the sun under your arm. hurry now, it's getting late. i don't know if this is a happy ending but here we are let loose in open fields.
from written on the body by jeanette winterson
