Once I was counseled by a wolf. He spoke from the center of madness, ravenous for our redemption, calm, unafraid, and smooth as glass. Lest you think I'm crazy, the wolf had a silver pony tail and wore cowboy boots, cornflower eyes mirrored in a picture of his brother staring from the cup in his hand, naked and proud, alone in the snow, tongue hanging out, as if he had just run across Alaska. He recounted for me Chuck Yeager's flight. Then he gave me a long thin watercolor. "That's all I do" he explained. "Paintings of clouds. Just clouds and the deep blue sky."
- for Andrea Grenadier |
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