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I am a pile sort of person. My office desk is a formidable installation of stacked books, papers, and pamphlets:  each pile a silent observer of my daily tasks. My writing desk at home is the same. As I write, books slowly but surely pile at the foot of my chair, creating towers, content with their rectangular chunkiness.

I need the presence of piles as I work. Nothing else reminds me so viscerally  that ideas are not just for thinking. If they are the right sort of ideas, they can knit themselves together, form into a book or an action, and have a physical impact on the world.

I’d like to think of Poetry & Pushpins as my virtual pile of writings. A place where my professional works can mingle with my less formal musings. A place where all of my varied pieces on religion, feminism, literature, fashion, gardening, and daily life can stack themselves, and in the process become something real.

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