The Pink Forest

Dana Dorfman

Although Dorfman grants interviews and photographs she believes she will some day spirit away without a birth date, last name or social security number. Dorfman’s wisdom is pulled from the backpack of life. Read about Dorfman in The Lollipop Chronicle, The Here And There Gazette DanaDorfman.com and Insightweaver.com

When not writing Dorfman nudges her human side who has her stepping in gum, misplacing her keys, and losing her shoes in the sand.

I am an alternative thinker. Connections are established on the basis of an experience. Something happens and therefore we are, we become. The power of one’s mind transmits to everything around it. I focus on after-the-fact realization and the experiencer nor the experience. My book was written in the pink glow of reason, a place where the earth answers back to the heavens, a place called The Pink Forest.

I am a light revealer. I shed light on life happenings. In any situation I can pinpoint when and where someone’s spirit has landed. Our spirit has landed in our life many times. Perhaps it was in a super-hero moment, in a shockingly pink sunset, in a car hugging the coastline, in a swank hotel that overlooks the skyline or perhaps it saved our life in the stand by ticket we’re holding. We can see our spirit in bug-jeweled sandals, in fine print and in a puddle of rain. The Pink Forest is about stepping out of the narrow confines of your mind and catching your spirit's eye.

Our spirits are not necessarily in a truly seen and be-seen atmosphere. Our site is not about spirit sightings. We are about spirit landings. The actual touch down of the spirit in real life happenings that have occurred.

www.amazon.com, www.bn.com

But more than anything, The Pink Forest is about one woman wishing upon life for the courage to feel her enchanted self. Caught in gusts of emotion, her small draped figure lands on the tree of possibility where she becomes an amorous creature.

Glistening with intimate confessions, she blushes the earth and wanders into The Pink Forest.

On a beach stuffed with terry-cloth towels the naked looking edge of paper seemed to call to me as if I were its companion. Instantly fascinated, I shouldered my way past my sensibilities and ran toward the pile of gold seaweed etching the shore. The sand was cool to my touch as I hallowed away the grey mist taunting the dunes. And then silhouetted against the silver fog I saw it! Your pages glittered like mirrored starlight. I could not leave them untouched. I dug my bare feet into the sand and wondered if you felt discovered. How long were you leaping out of the way of the surf? How long had you sunk into the mist? Vanishing in the fog I read your intimate confessions. Each page wore the pale gleams of my smile.

The mystery is over. I am the one who found your pages. I am the one who published your intimate confessions. I don’t know if wrinkles are etched across your face now or if you are still blushing a world full of scowling stones. But know you glistened unimaginably in a tin can moment.

Wherever you are Jenna a push of mist falls from the Heavens

Dana Dorfman

In the netted light, a face very recognizable stares out at me. I do my best to look casual. I gaze at her chiseled outline. Her high cheekbones are distinctly familiar. As the figure slowly disappears, her eyes suffuse with a varying glow. I have come to rid you of your finite way of thinking. I share your purpose. She half-smiles and then vanishes in the crease of her cheek.

We are not world’s apart from our spirit

1983, my first encounter

The pink forest is more than a bundle of ferns.

Smile… your spirit is watching.

A woman watches the wind pass into her hands.

The pink forest is her story.