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"Terri Windling's life's work serves as an illustration of that concept; in her work, she has exposed the problems that plague society, repeatedly, through the medium of metaphor, which has served civilization steadfastly over the years. As she says, in a moment of epiphany, looking back upon what she has produced in art and literature, 'I saw that I had been telling the truth all along, in the metaphoric language of fairy tales, in its age–old symbols. Here were the poisoned apples, the coat of nettles, the girl whose hands were cut off and replaced with silver. Here was the princess Donkeyskin, who fled from her father and her father's bed. Sleeping Beauty was an image that I returned to again and again: the sleeping girl, innocent, vulnerable and yet protected by a wall of thorns as sharp as knives. Fairy tales were a kind of magic that protected me as a child. Not my body, bruised and battered; they protected my spirit and kept it alive.'"
k by Helen Pilinovsky
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When you are lying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night
Know that your small fierce dog is there growling softly at imagined intruders
Not realizing that the intruder is the pain in your head
When you are lost, making repeated U turns unable to read the street signs with your light shattering eyes, afraid you may have meningitis again
remember that your best friend and your brother are there on the phone with you, giving you directions
When you are crying in the lobby of the windowless looking black mirrored tower
Be thankful for the words of the security guard who is as dark skinned and kind as the doctor was white and officious (telling you you have an “allergy face” over and over until you finally ask what that is and “they destroyed the insides of your nose” and you may need a year of treatments and didn’t Elizabeth Taylor have great skin? She bathed in olive oil every day. What a fun lady”)
The security guard who said, “Don’t give up, Mam. I can see you have had a hard day. Please, be careful, always. “
When you are at the macrobiotic restaurant with the candles and pink tablecloths the one you used to go with your mommy when she was alive
remember that she is still here while you eat your kabocha squash soup and brown rice and sea vegetables and talk to your friend who wanted to die last month but is better now
Think of all the ones who love you, across lands and oceans, remember they may be sad, too or sick, or lonely. Remind them you are with them.
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