When it comes to spiritual teachers, there are those safe, gentle, consoling, soothing, caring; and there are the outlaws, the living terrors, the Rude Boys and Nasty Girls of God realization, the men and women who are in your face, disturbing you terrifying you, until you radically awaken to who and what you really are.
A friend of mine, Kim Hastreiter, who owns Paper Magazine, she told me, "When you left, it really changed things and you need to do something." So with the encouragement of others, I stayed around and watched, and I saw that all the girls before, such an enormous group of girls of color, all shades, it began to disappear.
You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; They called me the hyacinth girl.' —Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence. Od' und leer das Meer.