Touching something, touching home

Every year, for longer than I can remember, we’ve gone in the sea on boxing day. The cold chattering of sororal teeth, the quick strip and dash into a rising tide. Galloping over waves too large or too little and never quite just right. For almost every birthday I’ve submurged my whole body in theContinue

Venice, friction, and water.

I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about the space in between things; in between people. I spent a weekend in Venice at the end of February, where the space in between is small, and full of stuff. Like the space between houses is full of canal water, itself full of bilge, and rats,Continue