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Glitter Saints: The Cosmic Art of Forgiveness, a Memoir

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Robin Brown

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“The muses aren’t the material, but they speak through the tools, sparking signals in a language of symbols we can only read backwards.The wounds have been the way. Back to where we started, brought to our knees, eye-level with those small oracles that speak directly to our heart.”

“What do you spin with the light you are given? Releasing is in the telling, even as it is unfolding. In the middle of a miracle, God’s art exhibit we’re blessed to exist in. Once we look past ourselves and on to the possibilities of our contributions, we no longer have time or the hunger for such validation. Stay bewildered and in love with your possibilities. Thank your ego for your survival and then politely set it free. Jump into your spirit that lives in your soul and get busy creating beauty and love and stay so intoxicated with heart songs that you never remember to wonder about the mediocrity of life again.”

“Your faith is your conscience, and your conscience is your faith. You cannot have faith without a conscience, but you can have a conscience without faith. Man was designed to be good with or without religion, yet the challenge for many is staying good. Some people claim to be religious but have no conscience, while some people without religion are very much aware of their conscience. Therefore, a religious label does not define your character or validate your worth. In the end, all men will be judged by the amount of truth in them and the weight of their hearts. The heavier the conscience, the heavier the truth. The lighter the heart, the higher it goes. The only spiritual currency one has in the afterlife is amassed in the form of light, in that, the amount you have depends on the weight of your words and deeds in the living. Conscience is everything. Conscience is what connects us to the truth and light of the highest power source of all. God. The cosmic heart of the universe.”

“Standing there…it was as if Victorine was looking right through time, staring straight at me. I could almost hear her voice. She’s been erased from history and it just seems so wrong. I felt she was daring me to do something about it.” “…she put the napkin over her head and the tiny creature [ortolan] into her mouth. Then every other thought was driven from her head by the sheer physical effect of the hot bird burning her overstuffed mouth…Her teeth came down and a spurt of juice shot across her tongue. She almost jumped out of her seat; the flavor was so strong, so primal. She chewed again and the sound of bones crunching clanged in her ears….It was all hazelnuts, sweet-edged with bitter…figs, Armagnac, blood shot through her body. Another shatter of bone and she was tasting dark meat—the thigh perhaps—with its gamey flavor.”

“[attention seeking] is a way of wanting something without knowing what it is. A social ability, an appeal to others to help us with our wanting. To be and make others comfortable with our attention-seeking, we transform it into art, or success, or likable public snippets of our lives. If we were to take these gestures in the literal sense, maybe all we’re trying to communicate is that we want to be cared for.”