valentine
Brooklyn is under an ice storm and it's Valentine's Day, and it's the day after Heather M's passing after a long journey. When I think of her today it's of her eyes (she could hold a meaningful gaze in a way that astounds me), and her voice speaking out from a place of connection between spirit and body, and between identities and movements for change. I wasn't a close friend, but more of an avid fan, and this morning when I look online I can see that I'm part of circle that extends ocean to ocean.
In many ways today is a trite commercial holiday that celebrates only some of us, but today it feels like it's about love that can't be written on a paper heart. I want to celebrate all of us when we advocate for ourselves and for justice. Today that doesn't seem much different than love to me *
In many ways today is a trite commercial holiday that celebrates only some of us, but today it feels like it's about love that can't be written on a paper heart. I want to celebrate all of us when we advocate for ourselves and for justice. Today that doesn't seem much different than love to me *