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It feels as though we had each been walking along our own path in the same forest. As though we had got lost and had done so separately, but we were not alone in being lost, because the others were on the paths too. And now we have found our way to a clearing and suddenly we see that we share not only the clearing but the forest too. We think it begins when we meet, but in fact our stories were already entwined.

That is how the first evening went, with us weaving into one another, in a chain dance, a strange ballet, a clumsy pantomime.

One story is sent out into the room and then another follows, because someone has a similar experience to latch onto it: one person’s account elicits a memory from another and suddenly you see something that’s happened or somewhere you’ve been in a whole new light.

I’m trying to read but I can’t stop thinking of Dolly 😭😭

08/25/2026 pg 62 #2237

08/25/2026 pg 55 #2046

“It is hard to know where something ends and where something begins. Or someone. Where a person starts or stops. Where the next begins. […]”

08/24/2026 pg 45 #1945