Scrapbook

"If anyone was looking."

"Docking."

"Expansion pack."

"The museum is a scrapbook — polaroids and receipts and concert tickets and bits of string, maybe broken friendship bracelets. I'm not sure if the idea is to gather so many scraps, so many fragments of Time that we can walk the halls thinking, "wow, there really is something for everyone here." I'm not sure that's the idea. I wonder if, instead, the invitation is written in the act of gathering. The putting together of surficially disparate objects. After all, everything is more than it seems. The polaroids are original silver plate negatives, the artistry evident not in their images but in their weight. The receipts are slave registries, somehow as easily scrunched up, pocketed, forgotten, uncovered. Dirty laundry. The concert tickets are notices of community meetings, sharing the bold notion that being gay need not be punishable by death (reminding us that it most definitely was). The bits of string are the mosaics of pictures barely yet instantly recognisable — they tell us to remember what we already know, that the fruit looks different from the tree who bore it, that maybe we all have an auntie who wears headdresses like that. Everything is more than it seems. And if that is True and it is True that all these things can still end up together under the same museum roof then maybe we really can all belong here."

"Finite blackness, pockmarked with Light. Infinite granite, varnished with grease from human skin and human machines. I hang my head, see the one between my knees. Or I gaze out at the horizon, I see the other, my forearms buttressing my weight against a metal guardrail, half-cooled by night air. Bursting with exhaustion — swollen with excitement. These are our opportunities to slow down Time."

"-cito."

"Through."

"Gimme mines."

"Storied."

"It's an openness I'm not accustomed to feeling, least of all within the beehive of stone and storefronts. The traffic lights tell us when to go, spurring us into the top speeds of our sandals, heels, sneaker, boots and boat shoes. Lusting for shade across the street. Comfort is tied into the power grid, promising relief in the iridescent lights of mercado refrigerators. Vapour condensing on plastic bottles before the doors even open. But, of all the places, it is here I find openness. Here I find heat so debilitating that it reduces movement to a fantasy — like skydiving or the lottery, "Imagine going for a walk." It's not the stifling heat I call open, nor the head wrap of car horns and sirens. It's the stillness of knowing I can't do much at all that inspires me. Like sitting with my thoughts might be its own excursion. Counting the leaves of a sycamore, convinced I am enough."

"Seeds, planted."

"Don't call this art."

"Chillout."

"Chalace."

"Eves."

"Steady hand."

"Essay continued."

"Mass movement."

"A Cross for a Church."

"Lifting the veil."

"Hard work."

"Need to know."

"Alternative."

"Ready to scrub."

"Between sprints."

"The real pirate radio."

"Night ride."

"Ran."

"Zoom."

"Ender."

"Or spring."

"Run amok."

"'Coincidence.'"

"I don't usually do this. But when I do, I deeeeeewwwww ittt."

"Textbook."

"Neighbour."

"Mm, yes, perfect."

"You rogue!"

"Madagascar, CA."

"Loading."

"I better not see any trees here!"

"Phew, I wasn't exaggerating."

"Right there ?!"

"Hard."

"Gimme a break!"

"Galant."

"P.S.S.S.T."

"Redemption Arc."

"Cover up."

"Goochie goochie goo."

"Get in."

"Reregrounding."

"Grid blur."

"You're so often like this."

Burn, Baby, Burn!!!

"Peeeep."

"2."

The Universe needs me to believe in the power of Connection.

"It's forever the car parks got it like this."

"Breathe."

"Won't you ...?"

"Hello, house."

"Heads."

"Mom and Dad."

"What're you on, mate?"

"Here, friend."

"Density."

"Cycled."

"Oh, you."

"Out to lunch."

"Christmas-coloured."

"Giving."

"Sustaining."

"Wide-eyed."

"Tongue in cheek."

"Craddled."

"His and hers."

"So perfect."

"Priorities."

"No SD card goes hard."

"1."

"Unlike last Time."

"Wrong ratio."

"Coincidentally perfect."

"Go on, cowboy."

"Snek."

"Regulate."

"Good trouble."

"Postcard."

"Everything."

"European burger time."

"Shard of sky."

"Loving."

"Portal."

"Observations."

"30 Cycles."

"Saga."

"Made it through to the other side."

"Through there..."

"So alive."

"Something wrong ?!"

"Now-common bliss."

"Street lizard."

"Desktop mimic."

"Still in motion."

"Full circle."

"Template."

"Peeeeeeep."

"Fully blessed."

"Drawing shapes."

"Here, too."

"We're screaming."

"No lie."

"Babe, look!"

"How?"

"See what we get."

"Pride."

"Established routes."

"Walking in Squares."

"Peakin n speakin."

"Seed."

"Gift."

"Collective healing."

"Bloodburst."

"Shimmer."

"Grasshopper moment."

"In the shadow of history."

"There've been so many."

"Puzzle pieces."

"Technicolour barrel bottom."

"Fire prodding."

"Welcoming party."

"Bunker vibes."

"Desperate Times."

"Absolute left turn."

"Departure ritual."

"Edge of Chaos."

"Tuesdays."

"Long walk."

"I cried the last time I was here."

"Legacy."

"Glad we tried."

"Hidey hole."

"Proof of our ignorance."

"Stamped."

"Night cruise."

"Scoop faster."

"Thankful."

"Heyyy."

"Persy."

"Shades of Green."

"I was halfway out the door."

"Same spot."

"Work Way."

"Coral border."

"Danger."

"Guide."

"TRUE!"

"Say No to the Duke!"

"Annual Reflection on Connection."

"Way's Work."

"Home Safe."

"Shhh."

"Honouring Self."

"Circling Heaven."

"Important tings."

"Whispers of the Future."

"Coincidental Peace."

"Time in the Centre."

"Thought I woulda known!"

"Didn't know I was waiting."

"Ground Work."

"Layers and intervals."

"To where sleep conveys..."

"Silk."

"For the florists."

"Endless surprises!"

"Nowhere, again."

"Not the customs hall!"

"Unexpected survey."

"Giving."

"Particularly vivid."

"Meant for posting."

"Punketh."

"Clambering into view."

"Transcended bag was a crazy tip."

"Another Life this side of the glass."

"Return to Form."

"Keen on Life."

"Peeking."

"Coaxial Dividends."

"Cheeky witness."

"Matrix element."

"Promise to keep."

"Understatement."

"Slide the charm."

"Blue, #4."

"Following our margins."

"Be honest."

"Billboard mentality."

"Details."

"Changing colour for the first few times.""

"Look now.."

"This way and that."

"Pave Paradise."

"Special deliveryy."

"Backorder."

"Hard."

"Core memory."

"Island Time."

"Missed opportunity."

"Dámelo."

"Gown."

"Manifest."

"Chance and circumstance and romance..."

"Invite-only."

"Back to school."

"خلص"

"Many things they don't make like they used to, but it is especially pronounced here."

"Caught in the web / Soon you'll be eaten."

"The Dream was a Delusion."

"Mass appeal."

"I stay tryna visit the taqueria murals."

"Odd location."

"Slow March."

"Mates?"

"End racism, chief."

"Let me grab my—!"

"And there, and there, and there, and there, and .."

"Junk food."

"Soon as I step on the scene ...."

"Aghast."

"A little bit longer."

"To think this was how I found beauty again."

"Migrant Beauty."

"Sealed."

"Who do you work for?"

"Fridays."

"Counter-current learning."

"Vibrant hum."

"Getting lost rarely felt this good."

"Soviet Block."

"We'll see about that, I'm sure."

"In situ title."

"Maybe I should have known. But I am glad I did not."

"Things they used to warn me about."

"Feels like a function."

"Back and forth."

"Foundations of an adaptive world view."

"Tile View."

"Give me an occasion."

"Lookit."

"Pure mercies."

"Personality pic" (it's not a love letter but there is a lot of love in it).

"Most base."

"Another way things go."

"Soft Launch."

"It's about having fun."

"Boys are so silly."

"Spice mix."

"As I sit!"

"I never rated farming, now I think it might be the hardest enterprise of all."

"Hewn."

"After all these years."

"More than an insert."

"There for those who look."

"Culture as a shelter."

"Freshhhhhhh."

"The Town is a City."

"Visual gymnastics."

"Time giving endless counsel."

"Matter of course."

"Santa's little helper🥺"

"Deeply."

"Soundstage."

"Asking for my friends."

"Useless tool."

"A chemical equilibrium."

"Hot spot for things like this."

"ماذا بتريد ؟" — "What do you want?"

"Some would say self-satisfied."

"He sees it."

"You woulda thought I knew."

"The Truth is—"

"... will it end with a bandsaw?"

"What started as a seed..."

"Gravity."

"I've kina already had this conversation with myself."

"What's left ain't always right."

"Novelty through repetition."

"Blood Gulch."

I Can See My House From Here

"Legs straddle stone, Mind straddles worlds. That side I sweat, that side I wept. Pivot turn and my feelings stay in focus. East, South, West, North, Above, Below and Centre — Me, I, Self.

The line's a tad blurry on a peak so broad. Raising eyes to the horizon, the contours fall onto the topography in perfect execution. But the fractal nature of mystery remains. A mystery at finger's tip, a mystery as far as birds fly. Questions I feel no need to answer. "I wonder – I wonder – I wonder," between every single blink.

There is so much space! It does not inspire loneliness. It connotes room for growth, room for friends, connection. The people I would love to bring up here are the reason I am here at all. The reason I found this place. This peace. This light that only clouds could steal away. I invite them to roll in, I know what they bring. Flowers at some future date."

"Painting with pigments I was not meant to come across."

"Altar."

"You go this way, I'll go that."

"Joy — a crude simulacrum for compliance."

"Take the night off."

"Lots of Signs."

"Surely you jest."

"You right."

"He knew relief."

"The homie homie homie homie homie homie homie homie homie."

"Waiting for the right one."

"The faces."

"Look, but not with your eyes."

"AND SUMMA THESE."

"Ferret Arc."

"Champu."

"The gall to look this similar."

"Otherwise it's just sitting there."

"And so it continues to be."

"Bordering on too On-The-Nose."

"With the explicit hope of being less understood at a later date."

"Essentially me."

"I love when that 'This Could Be Anywhere' feeling starts to fade."

"And when I get to this one.... !"

"Suddenly I stand in dire need of a projector."

"I didn't say anything, please continue."

"The absurdity of it all, compounded further by the notion that any of it matters. Thoughts left on the dashboard."

"Technically a turtle."

"How many times a day to I blow past my own history?"

"Ideas effervesce throughout my mind, bubbling forth from the tip of my pencil, coalescing in the volumes of scrap paper. There is no beginning, no end — there is simply the Frequency: close together, fast enough for dancing or for bees to beat their wings; or slow, slower still, a dying Heart or one that never was. Things we feel once in a Life, a lucid view, a single word that steps into our eyes and solidifies while thumbs shuffle through the pages. Clouds pass by, most beautiful before they disappear, never to be seen again at least until the morning. Or never to be seen again, at all, en fin, or heard or drawn. Never to be seen again unless by someone New."

"My plan all along."

"Perpetual motion machine — now available on your desktop. Perpetual motion, just as you remember it. "Old reliable," close your eyes, your walk to school a breath away; hot meal cooling on the table.

Who remember'd to love you so? Who is it making sure the sun shines when rain ends? The radio blares, selling things, overwhelming question and query. The DJ says you matter cus your money does. I've hardly time for rebuttal. I am busy watching the rain. Perpetual motion — this time, at least, it is Live.?

"Graciously, subtly the Earth calls all of our ideas into question."

"Naughty, naughty."

She said, "This will blow minds."

"Some next device like."

"I am so there!"

"Stumbling Softly."

"Double Take."

"Surf Report."

"A first."

"Nasty patty."

"Midnight Moonlight crash upon my waking skin. I am nocturnal? Let me know. Drive me crazy. Hang from stone I lodge between your seams. Where my hand holds is solid, but truly I dangle into your immense atmosphere. Even the space between flesh and cotton is not lost to me. On me. Displace that vulgar sadness, course through my blood a noble adrenaline. Then lower me like a sinking coin. Have me sit and listen by the riverside."

"It is an older Way of Being."

Idaho River

"I'M FEELING IT. The slight reverberation of eternity. That ringing in my ears: "I could be like this forever." Say it out loud, I know it's not true. I know time changes all, what I now find beautiful may become repulsive. But sitting here on this Idaho river, I feel the gentle whisper of something greater calling.

So much of this past year, I felt the asynchrony between the external world and my internal universe. Often a negative delta. What I felt inside seemed so much smaller, weaker and less worthy than the incendiary roar of birds passing by my window. Now I am at an inflection point. A step in one direction can take me right back into that emotional slaughterhouse. But a step forward? I can feel the magnitude just by lifting my foot up. The Earth shivering beneath me.

I have been given a precious opportunity: another chance. Many of the projects, endeavours and relationships I have poured myself into have faded, burned or flown away. This made me insecure, led me to analyse my world through a looking glass of scarcity. But now as I sit on a rock on this Idaho river, my breathe invites abundance. All the setbacks, every rejection, every single or repeated event which moved me to believe I am not good enough, that I am weak and unlovable — all of those forces collectively magnified throughout the course of my life could not destroy me. I AM STILL HERE. I am still here. And though my mind turbines with the anxiety of finding another way to say it, I am learning to accept the simplicity of my language, that these words may capture all there is to say: I am still here."

"I'm gonna say sum."

"Delta Vista."

Vision blurry

Close my eyes

Touch so I can say I felt,

Remember so I say I feel.

If nothing's real, then so am I

temptation that I can't abide

but one day sleight my vulgar doubt

and teach me in fresh terms

If it's OK to need

"How are you here?!"

"A solid 90%."

"Release me."

"Church."

"Because it's high up!"

"Walking Scorpion."

"Oh, to be the colour of the Earth."

"This goes here."

"Impose."

"I don't know how they got lost, when they started were they found?"

"Guilt by Association."

"I'm screaming," or "The Earth Is Still Speaking."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm talking on egg shells."

"I had no idea you were capable of this."

"I can belong here too?"

"Reaching out."

"You did not think I forgot?"

"Rise, Goldenborn."

The gift of looking in a mirror that speaks back:

As questions fall from my mouth like tears, answers erupt from that liquid world—a thousand hands reach up to touch my face. They say, "We're here, always, beneath the waves where coral blends with bone." What was a chain becomes my anchor, what blew me down now fills my sail. Then I know in quiet resolution I'm strong enough to change.

"Mainframe."

"Ah had to."

"It's like starting a lawn mower ..."

"I feel

the difference."

"You said it, not me."

"You gotta respect it!"

"I could kiss you."

"Bro."

"Mute."

"Henlo." :3

"Go on then."

"Air costs money ?!"

"I still look at it."

"Thank you, Aishwarya. I hope to communicate to you one day how much you have helped me., not just now but through my life. Thank you."

"J-type 327 Nubian Hyperdrive Full-Organic Mod."

"Wait."

"Look."

"Respira."

"Denis Sarazhin's figure work is insane."

"This one remixed the whole vibe."

"I'm grounding." Aahhhhh

"Oddly satisfying."

"Guys shook!"

"Tone it back."

"Hold on loosely."

"Demon time .."

"Thank you."

"I'm trying man, I swear to God, with growing luminosity."

"On the surface it looks mad different but by faith I find coherence."

"Lost by mistake."

"Bore a resemblance."

"Lush, or the start of it anyway."

"Told you!"

"Miss my dawg heavily."

"Escher called, said was wavey."

"Held it!"

"House arrest."

"Lindy."

"Here again, yea I'm still stuck on 'is one."

"I need someone talk to me like this..."

"I am still working on my conceptualisation of Gene Wolfe's avern from Shadow of the Torturer. I used to think of it like a calla lily (Zantedeschia aethiopica) but now I think it might look more like this."

"This is not the end. This is the beginning. Swimming again in the waters that stretch beyond my door, the fields of diploria recruits, the forests of pseudoplexaura— This is where I feel alive, myself, both safe and imperiled. This blue world, this galaxy of fish, of time, all tied by shackles to the ankles of a hundred generations who looked, loved, cried and laughed like I do. As I step forward, I do not move away. I grow closer, ever closer to this world. Day by day I embrace my destiny."

"You know what that is, right?"

"I'm tryna see this one in person."

"Wait, how is this awkward?"

"Say wassup."

"8 minutes."

"Been 'ere a while."

"Straight mountainous terrain."

"Ay, yo, Miyazaki."

"The trees are screaming."

"Place."

"Explain."

"I have been looking for a place like this..."

"When I first skated here I thought it was pretty cool, a couple days in and the allure started to wear off. On the third day I finally started to get the flow. On the fourth day I started to think this might be one of the best places I've ever skated. On the fifth day I thought about how this was such a beautiful place for me to express myself."

"Head

change."

"Eight months of work distilled down into two pieces of plastic." T_T

"I miss skating SF."

"It started raining. Luckily there was a place to be human."

"I'm growing outta here and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

"Crazy how that thing has a Bermuda roof."

"I remember when my dad sat me on the table in front of the stereo and played Led Zep IV. I thought I'd never have a musical experience like that again."

"What is this stuff?"

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