“she may have to trek into the hills, leaping from rock to rock trying out her voice against the mountain. she may need hours of starry nights where the stars are like face powder spilled on a black marble floor. she may feel she will die if she doesn’t dance naked in a thunderstorm, sit in perfect silence, return home ink-stained, paint-stained, tear-stained, moon-stained” —Clarissa Pinkola Estés, the OG