Memory Narrativises Itself.

Home Is Where Somebody Notices When You Are No Longer There.

When I Was In High School, I Was In A Special Math Class. I Was Infatuated With Physics, Particularly Nuclear Physics, Einstein, And The Big Bang. I Read A Lot About Black Holes. And Partly Because I'm So Lazy I Thought You Could Do All This Just By Looking At The Sky And Thinking Up Universes. It Didn't Seem Like Hard Work When I Was A Kid, So I Enrolled In This Class.

I'm Bright, But There Are Lots Of Bright Writers And People Everywhere. In No Way, At No Point Do I Think I'm Better Than Them.

Everyone Operates Within Their Own Domain And Obviously Those Domains Overlap To A Great Extent.

I Like To Blow Up This Notion That All We Have To Do As Writers And Artists Is Represent Reality, Which Is Presumably Solid And Self-evident, With No Negotiation Of The Gap Between Myself And The World, Between This Body And This Space, Which Needs Narration To Close It.