In these moments when I am consumed by anger, like the present, I look to practices that allow me to return to something other than cruelty. To live in the world differently. To remain awake to the world as a practice of finding a way to love it.  

This is perhaps why I've been so drawn to the novel; that it is, however biographical, ultimately a fiction and there lies a crack of freedom. My novel is semi-autobiographical certainly, but pointedly, it is more an emotional truth of my life than it is an actual record of events.

I have spent the majority of my schooling in predominately white schools and I learned a few things about aesthetics: namely, North Face, L.L. Bean, Abercrombie & Fitch, and American Eagle. Other than my fixation on earning enough money to buy a real North Face fleece jacket in high school, the workings of rich and/or rich-aspiring/performing white people typically was not my business.

In some ways this is a long time coming. Perhaps a millennial cliche or the current cultural obsession with making “content” or the slightest creeping FOMO I feel but here we are, bringing blogging back.