Delicious and meaningful conversations with those willing to move from the security of the shallow into the depths of the deep.

Experiencing profound loss that moves the earth beneath you and shatters the sky above. Lost in a mosaic kaleidoscope. Realizing some want the connection and others are simply passing by to appreciate the art of the lost and broken.

Last night I dreamed of mountain peaks topped in powdered sugar. The stars and the moon illuminating water setting the hills on fire with light.

A quick fog rolled through and eclipsed the landscape. Before me stood my Great-Aunt Ethel, my Grandmother Mary Margaret, my Step-Grandmother Onie, Grandma Roncone. I caught a glimpse of my mother whose face became my own- immersed in a bath of white.

Dropping backwards into liquid, free falling into the unknown. The milk seemed to rise in perfect splatter- formation of languid silk- suspended in time.

I felt blanketed in love by my ancestors who came before me and have left this land. Smiling, holding hands, they turned and left. The fog cleared and the stars shone brightly once more.