Status Updates From Giving Up the Ghost

“Certain hours bring their charged, unmistakable light, the low rays slanting through the glass…the silence draws itself out, a long note in music; the light glitters with dust motes…Light, dust, silence; four o’clock.”

“The story of my own childhood is a complicated sentence that I am always trying to finish, to finish and put behind me. It resists finishing, and partly this is because words are not enough; my early world was synaesthetic, and I am haunted by the ghosts of my own sense impressions.”