It’s been 5 weeks since I’ve left Norwich on the very same date I arrived a year ago. Returning so abruptly feels like climbing through jagged creeks in suffocating heat, but I am now about 7.5/9 in Singapore, 0.5 lost elsewhere. There’s a 1.0 straddling a liminal space in which some clarity is slowly twisting into form.
My days now are full of uncertainty but also full with people. For that, I am grateful. I do not think it easy to find humans who make you realise it is possible to be yourself. Time with them keeps me focused on the larger picture, in both heart and mind.
It will not always be like that. When things get rolling, I too will disappear. But I do not wish to forget the lessons learned in the past year, or in this period (always humbling), as fetal as they are.
Books that I’ve been reading: M Train by Patti Smith; Common Lines and City Spaces: A Critical Anthology on Arthur Yap as edited by Gui Weihsin; The Bastard of Istanbul by Elif Shafak. New arrivals of Pulp: Vol I of V (thank you) and Nguan’s new book await.
Spaces I have visited: Jun’s sanctuary, Ying’s half-way space. Ly’s home, built in the year I was away. Achu’s home, still home. And as always, the two pools of blue and #110joochiat.