

Through the looking glass, into the place where it all began—from flowing waters there surfaced all systems of sex and gendered power. All loveless death, purpose-driven life, and the precarious paths between. When we fasten to one another in that place of thought, not with chains but charitable understanding…if we make our own path, may we never look back.
Someone tell me Le Guin isn’t the best to ever do it, I dare you. Also fairly wild to read of Hugh’s Labor Day struggles as I too weigh a crossroads involving librarianship
Through the looking glass, into the place where it all began—from flowing waters there surfaced all systems of sex and gendered power. All loveless death, purpose-driven life, and the precarious paths between. When we fasten to one another in that place of thought, not with chains but charitable understanding…if we make our own path, may we never look back.
Someone tell me Le Guin isn’t the best to ever do it, I dare you. Also fairly wild to read of Hugh’s Labor Day struggles as I too weigh a crossroads involving librarianship