I wonder, as we walk on the dusty dykeland path in the still warm sun of late summer, if you crave human touch as much as I do. If you also want to reach out across the invisible but, sadly real, societal boundary between us ― to take my hand in yours, to feel its warmth, its alternating roughness and smoothness, the history of its microscopic scars, the story of its aliveness. Each day, in a multitude of ways (some tiny, some huge), we buy into the myth of separateness, of us as isolated islands, unconnected to each other, to our surroundings, to the visceralness of life around us. And each day, we starve a little more, our hearts shrinking, our capacity to reach out to each other evaporating, our collective memory of the power and naturalness of connection decaying like roadkill. Who will step up and offer the courage, the trust, the simple open-hearted compassion to reach a hand across this destructive and manufactured divide?
— heidi kalyani, 2016
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line