I wrote this text on March 11, 2020. At the time, things looked grim, but I still hoped the pandemic would begin to drastically change the way we do things. As of yet, it has not. By the time I have children, all my childhood fears will have come true. Droughts and hurricanes take turns … Continue reading Four months on: still there
Never. Everyone just lives and lives, And we do things, we go places, we become our degrees, or our parents, or our past, or ourselves, we assemble shapes from the wet clay of youth that at first lays abundant beneath our feet, plenty to go round, and the possibilities, the forms it could take, endless, … Continue reading When will it be enough?