The weight of beauty in my life; I wanted to escape from all that. Why should my soul be broken by an ideal? Why this pattern of a life and not another? Why one thing above the others?

How to begin? There are so many beginnings. You can look at that how you like, positively or otherwise. I was caught up in its dark energy, the momentum of the image- machine. Right now the dark rain is sweeping in, from way out there. It takes a long time to reach its destination but when it arrives it does so with great haste. You know what I mean?

There's a reckoning about. Whether it comes to fruition or not..who knows? Look inward, anyway. Not trembling, not yet, but a rattling...yeah, that's it. What price do we pay for the choices we make? A fair price? Only a saint could think so.

I wanted to help people but really I wanted to only help myself. And this is where it got me. Detached from myself and from reality. I'm less interested in beauty now. It's damaging and brittle. I grew into a picture and didn't like what I saw. There are too many images in our society. I can't make my mind like my body. To think of the whole person means thinking in a different direction, at an angle to all we've been led to believe. Or else it's a lie. I think there's another way. You don't have to control yourself...and who could anyway! But accept it anyway..there's no perfection here.

I don't know the way forward any more but I know it isn't this. Let's see. Everything takes time. Grace, if it arrives, does so unannounced.

( Some of these words are Grace Woodward's; most of them are mine. i.e. Made up)