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Twenty years ago, just after the Clay Lady had beckoned and there was no turning back, I saw a picture that has recently surfaced in my mind. A group of women in long, loose garb, heads shawled, some with infants on their backs, all with paint brushes in their hands, they appeared to havc great energy and inner stillness. They worked on a cloth on the floor. The legend accompanying the picture said that they were working in sacred trance. I remember thinking , "That's how I want to work." On a good day, it is.
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