The oil dinosaurs want to win so badly in my home state because what happens here matters everywhere. The nation often follows where California goes.

As goes California, so goes the rest of the nation.

The desire to go home that is a desire to be whole, to know where you are, to be the point of intersection of all the lines drawn through all the stars, to be the constellation-maker and the center of the world, that center called love. To awaken from sleep, to rest from awakening, to tame the animal, to let the soul go wild, to shelter in darkness and blaze with light, to cease to speak and be perfectly understood.

There are infinite shades of grey. Writing often appears so black and white.

Home is where I work, and I work everywhere.

I feel often that we don't have the right language to talk about emotions in disasters. Everyone is on edge, of course, but it also pulls people away from a lot of trivial anxieties and past and future concerns and gratuitous preoccupations that we have, and refocuses us in a very intense way.