Thirteen
Thirteen years abroad today, and my life elsewhere has reached its adolescence. It has some questions about the promises it was raised on. How can a place become so much of who you are while remaining unsure what to do with you?
sense makingA collection of 2 posts
Before the Highest Place
There are moments we remember not because they changed what came next, but because they briefly returned us to a scale larger than whatever was closing in. I did not yet know what the following days would bring. I only knew that, for one Icelandic evening, nothing required an argument from me, and the world was vast enough to hold what I could not yet name.