I've run out of batteries for my camera, so I have no picture to put in my blog. It's all been puppets, puppets, doll, puppets, paintings, and more puppets for the most part.
But here's a Robert Bly poem my friend Lois sent me.
Every breath taken in by the man
who loves, and the woman who loves,
goes to fill the water tank
where the spirit horses drink.
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