Starting somewhere

E komo mai (welcome), to the accumulated words that succeed in escaping my mind. We’ve been here before. My previous attempts to write, to have a collection of my stories didn’t have a long shelf life. Part of me blames starting the phd program or the schedule with days that are never not filled. Rather, it was more so me being shy, reluctant, and a tad afraid of the vulnerability that meets the page. That’s ok and we’re here to try again.

Most of my writing life has been siloed to the academy and to audiences who actively work to bulldoze the vividness of my words.  Too often do these particular activities of literature and science have felt performative and sometimes disorienting. But what if writing could be much more simpler? What might writing be if it were given the space to thrive, to express our truth in ways that just make more sense to us, to me? My attempts to do so, to tell these stories represent the pursuit of the latter, to end the tenure of silence and filtering (or at least try to.) These bits of words represent the kaleidoscopic everyday experience, the moments that we sometimes move through too hastily or easily forget. These words are a reminder to be slow.  These words represent the wholeness of these encounters, that  deserve to be appreciated, to be celebrated, in fact. I’m unsure of where this will take us but perhaps that’s the point? Whether we know or not, I invite you to travel with me to figure it out.