Yesterday my new friend K told me that a certain psychologist diagnoses patients with "starlight deprivation." He advises they go out away from the city and look at the stars. It makes sense that if we were originally placed in a garden, out under the sky, we are meant to have the starlight and the moonlight on our skin, as well as sunlight.
She also said that she dreamed of Oprah two days before she knew about my project. Hmm.
Then last night my New Jersey Girl wrote that I must be channeling my inner Oprah.
Then my Taos Painter friend wrote (in response to my writing that joy is a yellow door) that she had once painted a yellow door.
Maybe we are all weaving in and out of one another's stories and dreams, even if we have never met. Maybe there are NO degrees of separation. Maybe we are all writing on one another's skin.