There's a song in your bones.

Being sad is part of being an artist, but only part. There's a deeper joy.

I am writing about plums. I am remembering the smell of an earthworm in biology class as we dissected it. I have been reading Jill Clapperton’s work on earthworms being essential for the soil and the soil being essential to food and food being essential to us, and maybe I host a lingering guilt for how I explored heart and gut in the wet, chloroform ste…