enjambments

Here you will find my networked thought, some of it fleeting, some of it permanent: a record of musings that runs from the mundane events of my own life to the abstraction of thought itself, and whatever this mind is able to think in between. None of it is finished. Each note is a line that runs past its own break, the way a line in a poem can end before its sentence does and leave the sense to carry into the next. Some of those next lines are mine, written months later. Some will be yours.

I want to craft an image of myself that depends on my thoughts. After experiencing creative setbacks due to dishonest writing, I have begun to understand more of myself and my relationship with language and writing. This space was meant to stand as an omnidirectional representation of my own self, and I still mean it to. What I did not expect is that a portrait like this is received as much as it is drawn. A secondhand book teaches this. It arrives with someone else's pencil in its margins, a line underlined twice, a word in a hand that is not the author's, and the book is not less itself for it. It is more legible. Here your pencil stays yours and mine stays mine. The portrait is the place where the two meet.