When I put my camera to my eye at just the right moment and click. When I slice, slice, slice vidalia onions until the pores of my hands sweat out their scent. When I gingerly place filling in the middle of the dough, fold and tenderly seal w/ the graceful twist of la repulge. When I rub her 6 1/2 year old back as she finally drifts off to sleep. When I drive through Chicago in the middle of the night without destination but with a full heart. When I sit by the edge of the water in darkness and let the sound of the waves wash over me. When I lay down in the grass of Humboldt Park as we talk of heart matters until the sky turns morning pink. When I "move to the rhythm that we call resistance." When I speak with my eyes because I cannot find the words.
Do you see me kneeling and kissing the ground? Because I am.