On beginnings
I wanted this site to be a place rather than a performance.
A place is where you can leave a chair half-pulled out from the table, where the kitchen smells faintly of last night's dinner, where the bookshelf holds books you have not finished and may never finish. A performance is a stage with the lights up. The two are not the same; the second one tires you out, while the first one keeps you company.
So this is a place. The corners are still empty. Some of the rooms are not built yet. I keep noticing that the most generous websites I read all feel built rather than launched — accumulated over a decade of small decisions. There is no manifesto on the wall, and the front door does not announce itself. If you are reading this, you have wandered in past the threshold, and that is the only invitation I know how to write.
For now the plan is small. One short essay a month. A log entry when something is worth recording. A trip note when there is something to say about the trip beyond we went there. The rest is texture.