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Return to Myself

This short play was written in 1975 as I was putting myself back together after a divorce. It was also my take on the feminist performances that were appearing around the country, only mine was more allegorical. How could I reconcile my grown up woman self, my artist self and the young girl I once was who seemed to have it all figured out. The script was lost, but I've recovered from notes poetic monologues that still resonate, in fact they're the first version of  many facets of what I still ruminate on today. 


Return to Myself


The Woman’s Path 


Every morning at dawn

I walk through this forest.

I am alive!

Young trees are taller this morning,

the moss is deep with dew.

I am a porcupine

whose millions sharp needles sting the air.


In the middle of the day 

walking here is no pleasure.

I should not have carried so much

but one trip is better than two.

Gnats swarm around my head.

Heat falls against my body in layers.


The evening comes,

and I am nothing.

As the disappearing sky

or the branches fading into shadow,

I am nothing.

My aching body forgets itself.

Trees float on the breeze.

The path is empty.

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