There is a manner in which certain things ask to be written, not so that they may be found, but because to exist in silence, for too long, eventually becomes insufficient. It is not urgency. It is something closer to a necessity that makes no noise, waiting patiently until it discovers the proper form. This archive was born in such a way.
Not as a diary. Not as a blog. Not as something that is updated merely for the sake of appearing alive. It is a place where certain thoughts come to rest, those which do not dissolve, those which return, those which insist with the silent obstinacy of things that truly belong to you...
pandemics, space telescopes, global networks, somehow reality keeps stealing genres # There are things that seemed to belong to films when I was younger. Pandemics. Robots, although ours mostly vacuum...
one word changed today, the streets outside my window did not # Pandemic. I keep looking at the word because it feels larger than what I can see. Outside my...
country songs have an alarming number of roads, homes and people leaving one for the other # Country music is becoming actively hostile to me. I started this entire obsession...
friday takes six months to arrive and sunday evening lasts approximately eleven minutes # Weekends end too quickly. Scientific fact, probably suppressed because productivity would collapse if workers knew. Friday...
every election eventually becomes columns of numbers and everybody immediately begins telling you what the numbers secretly mean # Numbers tonight. Percentages, turnout, projections, seats, comparisons with previous elections, comparisons...
democracy is partly the glamorous business of standing in a school building while somebody searches for your name # European elections this weekend. Italy votes today and tomorrow, and I...
site updates at midnight, mountain photographs at eleven, apparently this is what having varied interests looks like # I updated a few things here tonight and naturally what should have...
apparently a flag is just fabric until enough history gets attached to it # Republic Day today, which means flags everywhere, and I spent part of the afternoon thinking about...
june, july, august, and then the month i am currently refusing to pronounce unnecessarily # Three months. Tomorrow it becomes June, then July, then August, then September. There. I pronounced...
everybody begins discussing travel at once and suddenly staying home feels like administrative failure # Pre summer travel discussions have begun. Weekend here, few days there, Genova, maybe Venice, maybe...
one drink becomes another place becomes one more song becomes why is the sky lighter # There are nights that keep extending themselves. You say one drink. Then somebody arrives....
there are entire imaginary women living inside magazines who never spill coffee or have visible pores # Hikari and I spent part of today discussing women we are not. This...
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.