“At the temple there is a poem
called “loss”, carved into the stone.

It has three words, but the
poet has scratched them out.

You cannot read loss… only feel it.”

There are no words of my own which I could offer today to describe the profound sense of loss I feel about the passing of Li Zhao; a friend, an artist, a writer, a woman who meant so much to so many. I have tried, but I find that sorrow has taken my words, and perhaps, that is best today.

If you have time, please visit my friends at Lone Sloan Delirius to learn what a beautiful soul she was.

With my love to LSD and all whose lives were touched by her. She will be missed.