When I was a kid, I remember feeling with great emotion. My eyes would see and my heart would feel. The line between the two was taut, and when one pulled, the response was immediate and constant. I drank life through a fire hose. Then life dinged me, restricted the flow, and pretty soon the raging river was a dribbling trickle. Then some giant hand clamped down on the spigot nozzle and the trickle was reduced to nothing at all. Not a drop. Did it dry up on its own, or had my life just dammed it up? Either way, the flow of water was gone. Ever since, I’d lived my life through a dusty,
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