She lived happily ever after.
Or so she thought
Brain bleeds and subsequent surgeries ended the life she knew and her dreams of the future.
In the wake of the surgeries, she struggled to reclaim her place in the world, to regain the life she lost.
I’m sure that some point soon, I will feel comfortable grocery shopping. I try to tell myself that I will be able to visit my parents in the foreseeable future. I hope that the hatred will wane, that it isn’t symptomatic of the beginning of the breakdown of society.
As my first full draft of my book “Threads Around the World: From Arabian Weaving to Batik in Zimbabwe” neared completion, I started thinking of a second volume. I told myself that if the book was well received I’d write a second book.
The stories behind traditional textiles expose our commonalities—we have too much in common with each other to be divided into us and them, to be regarded as more or less. Stories allow us to acknowledge the person in each other.