Dear Readers or something formal like To Whom I am Reaching— I feel filled by so many familiarly new changes that I have found within me the desire to do something like yell into the void that is an online blog. Something about the inside-ness of an oncoming winter season always ignites my desire to write— and to find any (varyingly) warm sun spot. I have spent the last season or so quietly compiling the ideas of what I might want, you know, like take off or landing when you can see the map but can also still imagine how big things are in relation to your body. All that to say I wanted to have a way to reach out a hand, or a voice, and to create an appendix of time (an organ one can live without, but while I can I’ll keep). Currently, and maybe a little bit always, I am drawn to warmth. I sit by the fire in my cabin in the woods and I sometimes am filled with the endless inspiration and joy and desire to be alive that exists in part within me, and in part in things like the fire in my ...