I love that the "answer" is nowhere in the song.

Take me to the breaking of a beautiful dawn

Take me to the place where we come from
Take me to the end so I can see the start
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me to the place where I don't feel so small
Take me where I don't need to stand so tall
Take me to the edge so I can fall apart
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me where love isn't up for sale
Take me where our hearts are not so frail
Take me where the fire still owns its spark
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Teach me how to see when I close my eyes
Teach me to forgive and to apologize
Show me how to love in the darkest dark
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me where the angels are close at hand
Take me where the ocean meets the sky and the land
Show me to the wisdom of the evening star
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me to the place where I feel no shame
Take me where the courage doesn't need a name
Learning how to cry is the hardest part
There's only one way to mend a broken heart

lyrics: The Waillin' Jenny's from 40 Days

Art Will Save Us: How Will It Save Us?

February 2003, from the pink journal, drawing at work when i should have been working?

yolk sister; daisy lover

July 2007, from my sketchbook after a night of doodling. she has a story and a twin who has not yet appeared to me. perhaps we will see her this summer...

Albert & EdFred

I never know how much to say about the images I post here... Do you ever wish you knew more about them? What would you like to know?

Albert is a man I met several years ago while I was working at the now defunct Sweetski's Cafe. The circumstances of our introduction and his warm demeanor have never left me. He invited me to visit with him and this summer I hope to find him in northern Minnesota. I feel very strongly that I must go see him, and soon.

EdFred is the name I gave to the Mountain Ash tree that up until a month ago was living in the ground in front of my apartment. I came home from work one evening, it was late after a very long, very stressful week when I noticed that he was gone. The next morning, with sun shining on the new snow I saw the dust of his wood sprayed all over the snow. EdFred is gone, gone, gone... I was heartbroken for a moment (I was aware that the building manager would have to remove the tree). I was neither ready to give up on what could be salvaged, nor ready to accept that this wonderful tree had met the end of its life, let alone so suddenly. I do not feel entirely free of responsibility in this death. I feel that my lack of self confidence contributed to a series of events that led to this moment. I choose to see EdFred as a guide, a marker of a time when I realize(d) that inaction is just as powerful a force as action; each bears its own consequence.

This sketch came out of thinking of the two of them... I would like to tell you more about Albert but I do not have the 'go ahead' from my guts. They are part of my education, they have enriched my experience of life.

Surprising engraving

Surprising graffiti

Let's not have tea. White wine
eases the mind along
the slopes
of the faithful body, helps

any memory once engraved
on the twin
chromosome ribbons, emerge, tentative
from the archaeology of an excised past.

I am a woman
who understands
the necessity of an impulse whose goal or origin
still lie beyond me. I keep the goat

for more than pastoral reasons. I work
in silver the tongue-like forms
that curve round a throat

an armpit,the upper
thigh, whose significance stirs in me
like a curviform alphabet
that defies
decoding, appears
to consist of vowels, beginning with O, the O-
mega, horseshoe, the cave of sound.
What tiny fragments

survive, mangled into our language.
I am a woman committed to
a politics
of transliteration, the methodology

of a mind
stunned at the suddenly
possible shifts of meaning- for which
like amnesiacs

in a ward on fire, we must
find words
or burn.

Artemis, by Olga Brumas

viva bravo whoopee oooooooh eureka hallelujah