April 14, 2011
THIS WEBSITE is produced on a small table in our living room. It’s a wooden game table, a hand-me-down from a relative, with a top that is 19 inches long and 21 inches wide. A chess board is inscribed on the wood. If I remove my laptop, I can lift up the chess board. There are checkers and chess pieces inside. My son sometimes uses the table to play games with a friend.
From where I sit, I can see out the front window and the back window too. The other day, there was a torrential spring downpour in the back yard. “Look,” my son said. In the front yard, it was not raining at all.
Virginia Woolf was wrong. A woman does not need a room of her own – or even a desk of her own – to have a mind of her own. That’s because truth is everywhere, sending its roots into the ground, watered from above. She needn’t pursue life. It knocks at the front door. The drama of existence is all around. Unimportant things are brimming with importance.
I am hoping you will support the counter-revolution, the movement that can only arise within hearts and minds like yours. Please subsidize the daily labor that goes into this tabletop enterprise by donating to this website today. Thank you for whatever you can do to keep it going.