I see the path, circuitous and long, that I have taken to arrive at this juncture. My words flow like the brook at the end of my driveway; sometimes, they glide fluently, while at others, they drag and catch. There are times my words bubble wildly, unrestrained and melodic, without any real direction. I am Alice, upside down. Images and words, ass-over-tea-kettle, I am Alice.