This is the last line of a poem by Wendell Berry, called Manifesto: Mad Farmer Liberation Front. The last line has become a shorthand for my kindred Tonia and I. We’ve spent many a late night and early morning hashing out what it looks like in our lives. I really love how this turned out (though I realized belatedly that “resurrection” was mis-spelled in more than one way). That’s the interesting thing about this journal- there’s a point where it’s just time to stop and let what is, is. There’s all sorts of things I could go back and ‘fix’ on different pieces but that would defeat the point of the handbook in the first place. (Golden Acrylics, Royal & Langnickel brushes, Handbook Journal Co.)