I'm A Big Fan Of The Vigor

I Was Fifteen, And When I Picture Myself Then, I See Flames Shooting Up, See Myself Falling Off The Edge Of The World, And Am Amazed I Survived Not The Outside World But The Inside One.

Walking Itself Is The Intentional Act Closest To The Unwilled Rhythms Of The Body, To Breathing And The Beating Of The Heart. It Strikes A Delicate Balance Between Working And Idling, Being And Doing. It Is A Bodily Labor That Produces Nothing But Thoughts, Experiences, Arrivals.

[on The] Question Of Why We Might Want To Look At Images Even More Than The Real Thing: I Think There Is Some Quality When You Look At An Image Of, Not Only Seeing This Thing, Whether It's The Horse Or The Sky, But You Are Seeing Somebody Point At It And Say, Look!

In The Bare Room Under The Old Library On The Hill In The Town At The Tip Of The Small Peninsula On The Cold Island So Far From Everything Else, I Lived Among Strangers And Birds.

We Fly; We Dream In Darkness; We Devour Heaven In Bites Too Small To Be Measured.