. . . ruminations on the creative process and what it means when your sense of self is upended through a series of small violences capture the mundanity in trudging through a long-term illness.
I think language will always fail in some ways, that no matter how well we write, the words will ultimately never fully capture and convey an experience.
Nature is scary-beautiful, especially in the backcountry. I always carry a simmering fear of what I’ll find or what will find me alone on the trail: bears, storms, men.