“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” — Virginia Woolf
A terrible pain. A dinner with friends. A shiatsu massage. An adoring poodle. Not to mention Cuban salsa dancing. And avoiding the political scandals for the moment - the avoidance a temporary measure. And still the plot lines of White Supremacy leak into the narrative - a terrible commentary on our times.
A September weekend: strolling through sunlight and the heat of summer returned. Two days and three nights unfold with the up and down flow of a rusty sun salutation.
No Gate No Lock 