Experience is a changeling, that explains all our lives. We follow hope whether we are on a Tibetan Mountain, part of the blue, manic Mardi Gras; know well the burnt-biscuit skin of New Jersey or the sexuality of Morocco. From day to day we follow it through a labyrinth of emotion, vowing I’ll come back, for this Dumb Hillbilly has a few more things up her sleeve, as you will see. Let the good language of Sabne Razniks safe place rush over you like horses. She is humming a melody we only ever hear in our dreams.
