Hey there, void. Hey there, bots. Blogging is dead, but I'm not. I'm still alive, and still here.
Hard to believe how much has happened, really. Everything since 2020 feels like a new universe.
I live in the desert now. In a messy, vibrantly decorated, tiny little living space with two cats. The land loves me, and I love it back (the land is everything). I subsist on a modest income in a modest industry. My life is a lot simpler, and a lot harder, and a lot better, than it was in my previous life in the green cities of the East. It took forty years to come home.
I'm reading again. I'm writing again. A novel, finally. I'm still playing the piano, and singing. I've thrown off a lot of the old constraints on my life and my freedom. I'm learning, slowly, about living in community, and finding safety in other people as much as in myself and my solitude. It helps that all of us desert weirdos out here know about needing to vanish into the vast unpeopled places to listen to the rocks and the junipers and the sagebrush and the ravens and the wind.
It can all be summed up like this: I sleep better than I've ever slept before.
I don't know if I'll post again. Maybe. Maybe not. But if anyone who used to read this ever wanders back, I just wanted to leave this CROATOAN inscription carved into the stuff of the ether. I was here, I'm okay, and you can seek me out if you remember the way.
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