What Happens When You Jump

Winter 2006
I want to write about knowing nothing. Coming to Mexico to live for essentially six months without the language is the epitomy of the sense that I often have that I know nothing about life, about being alive. Arriving knowing virtually nothing and feeling completely dependent on Maribela was in a sense my worst [...]

This moment, it doesn’t matter to me if anyone reads what I write.
That feels like a relief, for in that, I give myself permission to write what I want, how I want. I can be as mouse visiony as I choose and hopefully receive nourishment from it. I don’t have to please anyone. I don’t [...]