‘The fluency of the thinking pen.
The battle is over. A realization dawning. What, for so long, like a brilliant crystal grew, is now due to die and wither.
I watched the crying faces as the sun rose, exhausted, dusty with exilaration. We are dancing just in time.
There is a melancholy tone the earth is singing…
this is the spirit of our dance.
It all seems so clear in my mind – but almost impossible to write.’