The great affair is to move. Preferably slowly. Most ideally, by foot—although this is sometimes less feasible. Air travel has brought the world closer for some of us. It has also, however, resulted in us flying through discontinuities, singularities in the sky. We are transported from one place to another with no understanding of what happens in-between.
And in our hopping about the globe, our preconceptions and our stereotypes and our own realities are folded within our carry-on luggage, amongst the laptop and the pyjamas and (if you’re me) the roll of toilet paper (because you never know). We spend but the briefest time in wherever we are going, skimming off the surface and convincing ourselves we’ve seen enough to know. But the sea is broader and deeper.
Every so often, I will add to these pages. Sometimes I will even add words and thoughts. But my preference might always be for silence, an acknowledgement of my ignorance. Unless I am talking about walking, or nature, or a place I have come to love.