Emily Dickinson advised that we “tell it slant.” This makes sense. Telling it slant is a natural outgrowth of living it slant. Oblique paths and slanted paths dominate my sense of inner geography. Dylan Thomas wrote: “The memories of childhood have no order, and no end.” How true! Memories come to us as the sharpened jigsaw pieces of an amorphous puzzle. How we piece it together, why we piece it together, who we are when piecing it together, what we choose to place where, and when—the puzzle is a prism, a panoply of Rorschach symbols, an enigma with endless variations and configurations.