I am usually compelled to process my experiences by forming sentences, stringing together words that give shape to my thoughts. It's the curse – and joy – I've known since learning how to form letters with my fat yellow pencil and Big Chief Tablet.
However, since witnessing people pouring into Chicago's Grant Park and into the Seattle streets below my living room window – and now the overwhelming mass of emotion on January 20 – I've struggled to find the words.
But someone has corralled a great collection of vowels and consonants. Since discovering this little folk singer in a dorm lounge at Colorado College, I've found that Ani DiFranco frequently knows just what to say.
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