the lost man chronicles
book two: the art of love
to bsomething and someone eclectic and eccentric, colorful, empowering, towering because she has sought out something passionately, a believer and a conceiver of something original, a seeker of truth, one who can meld spirit and inspiration and random parts of one's life into a frame which does not limit its meaning; a woman who knows her self and knows she is divine; one who is inclined to laugh at our attempts to electrify each other through the thin air, the ether and the masks we wear with words; one who journeys, sometimes alone, sometimes by sitting peacefully by herself at home; a person who values knowing the past, alas, even at the expense of feeling the pain of millions; one apt to trust strangers in the street and allow them to guide her feet towards enlightenment; an inventor who spent her childhood curious, capriciously rolling through a thousand blades of grass; one who also understands creative expression and the repression thereof, comprehending that all that we might gain from above is not necessarily meant to be given below; one who is intimate with perseverance, commitment, and determination; a pauper who knows riches grow internally; one who has been enriched by misadventure, and who is apt to wander astray again; and when she seeks truth may end up slaying all that was presumed; one who can be consumed by hunger, mesmerized by thunder and remain in awe of all the sensual wonders of this world.
the art of living the art of love