Friday, November 25, 2011
There is a moment with eyes closed of finding a hand with my hand. The hand slowly recedes from my hold - all I can think is, of course this is what happens. It's a well-grooved narrative, like a record playing. I stay, wait. Then the hand surprises me, pauses. Maybe doesn't want go on record as the one to slip away, or maybe curious to feel what happens. But I got nothing but stillness. My very best innermost nothingness.