What does the future hold? We must create the future we wish to see, Break the Mold, undergo Reprogramming, construct a new Fondamenta for ourselves and our children one Brick Block Tick Tock at a time. Our culture is dominated by Alphas who Flex their power for the sheer pleasure of being in control. These years of Quarantine have offered us the opportunity of reassessing the changes we wish to see in the world. Perhaps we need Bella Ciao to herald A Matriarchy Modern, a fresh start built by and for women. Perhaps we need to turn our backs on capitalism and the ceaseless insistence upon production, perhaps answers lay under our feet as we walk on soil or on Terrazzo floor.


Living in New York, I downed coffee after coffee—“An Americano for the American!”—simply to survive, to keep moving. I began to Burn Out. Roaring in Silence, I went through a Grey Period, during which everything I touched seemed lifeless and turned to White Powder White Stone. I found a Blood Feather of a Northern Flicker and saw myself in that beautiful, gentle, broken bird, whose home was stolen away by a Copper Nail. I realized that I needed to get out. Peering at the Faint Lights in the distance, I turned to Tarot Tarocchi for answers.


I returned to my grandparents’ home in the Italian countryside, relearning Seasonal patterns, discovering the places of their youth—climbing into the Alpine foothills, diving into the waters of Sardinia, and following Bodies of Water to their source. I explored Veneto, visiting Churches throughout the countryside and considering how their conception of the Holy—through comparison and difference—helped me understand my own. Gradually, I learned to listen to myself, looking to Mirroring in nature and the Animals I Love to understand what I felt in my heart. I strove to become W/hole and to give light to others. At last, The Stone Has Shattered and I Can Breathe.


When I turned Thirty-Five in 2021, that checkpoint in my own biological cycle reasserted the wishes I had for my life. I would like to experience motherhood, to see a child Being Born into this world. This moment also prompted me to reflect on my youth—drawing Mickey and DaVinci, watching Pinocchio. Not all of my childhood memories are happy. I was led astray by Nosy Noses or troubled by Nightmares. I learned to comfort myself through Humming or making art. In the years since, I have striven to look for different models of care, A Likeness for my own dream of family. Only through kindness and Words of Endearment for ourselves and for each other will we build a better life. So, Dimmi, amore—tell me, my love. I am listening.