As a child my worst fear was having to introduce myself when meeting someone for the first time. My name always hung on my tongue and wrapped itself all the way down my throat. That suffocation of words, of ideas, of expression continued into adulthood. Most would never know the inner work of a person who suffers with stuttering.

FROM THE QUILL

DIVE IN

WRITING AS RELEASE

Don’t you remember Joy spilling through your clothes when your body spoke to you in rhythms that your ancestors knitted in tight patterns within you? I know I did. Joy was there all along.

FROM THE QUILL

DIVE IN

prose with purpose