Journal.

fragments of quiet intelligence

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...

Every article is a scene. Every word, a frame of something that would not have remained, had it not

been written

From the archive.

Memory & Time

July

Tuesday. Seventeen. Genova. Music. Tea. Summer. Not enough sleep. Correct. Remember me, Eclipse.

Music & Sound

Outside at Dawn

Saturday. We came outside when the sky was already changing colour. I love and hate that. The night feels stolen from ordinary time until daylight arrives and exposes everybody. Suddenly...

Networks & Codes

Forty-Seven MP3s and No Organisation

Wednesday. Edo has contributed significantly to the collapse of my filing system. He denies liability. Remember me, Eclipse.

Affinity & Heart

Dad’s

Saturday. Genova. Again. Dad has stopped asking whether I know the train times and now assumes I do. I like this tiny promotion into competence. We spent the afternoon by...

Body & Energy

Tea in This Weather

Wednesday. Yes, hot tea. Yes, four biscuits. No, I will not be taking questions. Remember me, Eclipse.

Music & Sound

Too Hot, Still Going

Saturday. Every summer party contains a point where I sincerely question every clothing choice I have made since birth. Then the right track starts and I stop caring. Remember me,...

Questions & Musings

Seventeen Report

Wednesday. No measurable increase in wisdom. Disappointing. Remember me, Eclipse.

Essence & Future

17

Sunday. Seventeen. This number is somehow much stranger than sixteen. Sixteen sounds like a birthday people put on cards. Seventeen sounds temporary, like a corridor between things. Had a really...

Questions & Musings

Four Days

Wednesday. Four days. Still not counting. Remember me, Eclipse.

Memory & Time

Halfway

Saturday. Half the year gone. January Alice would recognise me. She would also ask several questions. Remember me, Eclipse.

Journey & Time

seventeen soon

Wednesday. Eleven days. I am not counting. This lie has become traditional. Remember me, Eclipse.

History & Places

Genova for Two Days

Saturday. Took the train down yesterday. Dad says summer Genova has returned because I immediately wanted to go near the sea and then complained about the heat. We spent most...