Holly Robinson

Each of us carries a sleeping tiger inside, and we can__ predict when that cat will wake, stretch, and sharpen its claws.

The loneliest days are the ones where you keep company with someone you love who can__ hear you.

Even for women without children, trading hours that produce income for hours that produce __nly_ art seems like a foolish decision. What a loss for the world, though, to have women's voices silenced because art is our last priority.

Still, I wonder if more women artists, musicians and writers aren't household names because we don't have enough faith in our own pursuits to give ourselves the time we desperately need to be transformed by a creative vision. Maybe that glass ceiling isn't really made of glass at all, but of sticky little fingers, dishes piled in the sink, and mortgages that demand two incomes.

Many women arrange their lives around the people they love. Unfortunately, that arrangement takes up most of our days.

Was it possible to do both, to contribute to the world while merely observing it? To be content in the moment, but plan for the future? Could you follow your heart without losing all common sense?