The Author Problem:
The better an idea, the more universally valid, the less any particular author can lay claim to it. So only the worst ideas herein can be credited to me.
I'm a sage trapped in a simpleton.
My earliest memory is of a sense of poignancy.
Like most people, I'm learning to love reality the hard way. But I've made some progress, and found that the love is mutual.
I have an unaccountable fondness for everyone I've ever met—even the people I don't like.
I'm likely the least welcome sort of messenger—giving voice to the internal wisdom we’re least likely to listen to.
I write differently than most writers. I don’t tell stories—I convey meaning pictures. Like jigsaw puzzles made of words. Matching the pieces together, like telling a story, is necessary and important, but not the main objective. A writer can cut the pieces in many different shapes, and the reader assemble them in any order, but the final image, if it’s truthful, will always be the same—beautiful, timeless, and independent of language. The meaning pictures I see, and attempt to share in words, are exquisite to my mind. I can only hope that they are truthful, and that you can see them too.