The Vicious Circle
August 29, 2003 1:30 a.m.
We are but mad north-by-northwest...
What they say for geisha is also true for writers: one is filled with admiration for those who are able to recast their suffering and become great artists. Between the pages and the sheets, she is eternally the rising sun. Her wisdom weaves into her words and these braid together into a rich and beautiful fabric. She is dream.
The Muse that passeth understanding. She breathes sex in your ear and will gallop astride you until you spit sestinas. June is young and dangerous, with prose like a velvet-covered cleaver. She is a dark arrow aimed at the sun--more often she hits the moon. More often than that, she hits you.
Note from Anais: In two weeks I will be purging this list. I have repeatedly said that this is not a passive site or diaryring and that it is not acceptable to sit on the sidelines and do nothing. Those who have not either contacted me with reasons otherwise or posted at least a review to the site within the next two weeks will be notified, and if no extenuating circumstances are claimed, politely and lovingly removed. Can't just sit about waiting to be asked to dance, my dears. Consider yourself asked.