The Blog

The stories that have risen from silence.

Sitting on the living room floor listening to electronica with a piece of Calcite on my head.

Contemplating where to start.

Does it begin in the drama? In the story?In the places where I’ve been? Neglected to go? Or does it start where I am at.

Looking for direction where there at times seems to be only me.

So, I let the thoughts carry me.

A funny thing, to trust thin air.

The stories that have risen there:

The stories I’ve been told through my mother’s movements.

The stories her mother has been told through the way our bodies have grown.

The stories her mother has been told through the resources.

In her earth.

On the still lakes.

Their tone.

I realize:

We are creating the things that help us understand

The stories that have risen from silence.

Tifani Truelove