A Wild Woman never believes, “It can’t be done.” She never talks herself out of the dream that calls to her, that tugs on her heart like the moon tugs the ocean. She is tracking, always tracking her own heartbeat to the place where it beats with the drums of the earthly pulse. Deep into the woods, down to the rivers edge, up the mountain side, and deep into the caverns, finally back to the ocean, in time to sing to the moon.

— Alison Nappi