This was 11 years, 6 months, 8 days ago

if there are any vows to be made, it is to try, for just one year perhaps, to live in process, not in thesis, to live not in plan but in play, to take lines for walks, not towards destinations, to make as you go, to make shit up, which means to some extent unlearn things, disregard my own rules, be inconsistent, have praxis in motion, know that identity is performative, actions not words, travelogues not plans. just set off. there are many ways of thinking.

of course, past-me is always wiser:

... and that maybe movement itself is the busy-ness; you don't grab a point in the distance and march forward towards it with a stiff upper lip only, but that you bushwhack and traipse through brambles, forests, swamps, generating paths, creating movement. this sort of work, I mean, which is like saying: I will always be walking, hiking, biking, skating, riding, jumping, moving. limbs firing, fingers going. working, thinking. and I can see that, that it will always be so.