What to say about me...I'm a victim of my muse...i read, write, and run from place to place on her whim. i've sat listening to her speak to me as if she were the only voice in the world. i've drowned myself in the touch, taste, scent, pion of words and music and art and all free forms of expression. i don't live to write, i write to keep living. looking for somoene who can sit silently beside me on a stone outcroping, listen to the ocean lap at the rocks and hear music where there is only the calling of the gulls. I'd like to meet someone whose spirit is as free as mine, someone who will dance in the rain, someone who will pick up and just hit the road because somewhere they just can't see is calling. i'd like to meet someone who will sit in graveyards at midnight hoping there is something there, seeing nothing but beleiving anyway...i'd like to meet someone who beleives there is still magic in the world, who touches it in the fire fairies as i do and sings the old songs in the moonlight, hoping to open the door to a place no ones ever seen.