spiritual / personal / transformative / existential significance! But I suppose I am a person that bares witness to the spiritual / personal / transformative / existential / absurd significance and insignificance of everything, while also loving to talk about it more than anything, to bring all that invisible goo that holds together ligaments and molecules out into the open in order to laugh at it, and perhaps that is the secret and not-so-secret language you refer to, that you see in me, that is also in you and everyone and everything else. When I speak I wonder if it is me or the not-me performing the speaking: is it my self, my "will," some propulsion embedded deep in the purple gray void of my brain that beams out electronic signals for my tongue to flip and curl and click against the top of the mouth? Is it really me that pretends to hear and understand the sounds coming out of that orifice, or to make meaning of how the vibrations are received by the orifices of others, or how they are echoed back, or to think that any of that could make up a coherent system? Surely it must be the wind, or just the still air, or the dust floating in it, or the aether floating between that, or the electron probability cloud flowing between that, that serves as a point of resistance for the gummy muscles of my mouth hole, that is clicking against my gums and making them jiggle into the vowels and consonants. Language must be an illusion, certainly not mine to make or give. On the other hand, the universe (multiverse) would make much more sense if we considered it a long form poem, an act of poetry writing itself into existence, so perhaps all is language and all the stillness and nothingness is just a swirling ocean of commas and full-stops lingering on the precipice of articulation.

None of us are as flexible as we used to be. All the more reason to keep waking up earlier and earlier and keep stretching deeper and deeper. You are wise to keep your tent. Thank you for the letter. It caught me at a beautifully serendipitous moment and filled my existential container with hot pink inspiration.

I've been living in Oakland, CA since February. It horrible and grotesque and sunny and indescribably beautiful here, all at once, in everything that I see and do. In two days I will get on a plane and fly to Venice Italy to meet a group of people for the first time, the students and faculty of my phD program, convening on the occasion of the biennial. After a few days of strong standing coffee and canal breeze I will board a train destined for a little village in the Swiss alps where I will spend the rest of June listening to an extremely interesting curation of personages outlining their theses on the current complexities of the world. I will take notes, and I will think some new thoughts, and I will entertain old thoughts, and all of that is well and good, but between you and me I am mostly looking forward to walking. Like you, I love to walk and think and be alone - which is never really possible of course since we are always already everywhere surrounded by people that just happen to be people we don't know, or have yet to get to know, but the thought is still enchanting. I will walk to a train and walk through the airport and then walk through another airport and then walk into a new city, and then another, and then another, until I land in this small village surrounded by mountains, and then walk all around it and through it until I come to know it completely. Funny how walking leads to knowledge, even if one lacks a destination. Already in my mind I am forming an association to Seydisfjordur, a parallax view: the opposite altitude, more earth than ocean, yet somehow connected, as thought through the umbilical of an alternative dimension.

Speaking of parallax views, you will soon meet ___. I am bound to that woman somehow, some way that I don't care to describe in too much detail for fear of destroying its magic. She carries pieces of me inside her being and getting to know her will also be getting to know new facets of me: perhaps it's more than a joke that I like to think of us being two halves of a single person. You will see, or maybe you will disagree, but either way it makes me giggle to think of her spending time there with you all. I would like to be there myself and have been thinking about paying a visit somewhat soon. You will be the first to know if and when those plans are formed.

I've been reading so many interesting books and listening to so many amazingly strange albums of music and making many awkward and exciting manifestations of would-be future days. I hope we can spend many hours with many fires and many gradients of light discussing all this new content and much more, sometime, somewhere, in the coming present. When we get there I will remind you of all that time we spent apart, and how endless it felt, just for a laugh, just to make the present that much more surreal.

Yes I have an address and you can send me things! Like I said, I am leaving for Europe for 1 month and will return in early July, but there will be someone here to receive it so send any time! I am so pleased to hear word of your silence, and your exuberance, and to catch a glimpse of your visions. I hope this finds you well, satisfied in all the right ways and hungry for all the right reasons.

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