“If you cut open my veins, I would bleed green!”

I remember when Beth Potter brought an armload of ceramic bowls and cups to the Madison Dojo. With her usual big, easy smile and humble manner, she said that she made them and was donating them to the dojo.

The arrow releases from the string and “Thwack!” A true hit! I take the next arrow and again the draw feels impossibly perfect. It’s as if the bow no longer exists and the arrow is already in the target. “Thwack!” Another true hit. How did that happen?