Movement, a chaos, storming, neon buses traversing miles upon miles of lit, unlit highways. There is a tension within everything, a place between the lungs where heart resides. We walk up and out into a world that neither welcomes nor turns away. Seasons as splendid reminders that we love to forget. Ambivalence? No. But a resounding need to report happenings each and every time they occur? Yes. Here. I give you all fall; precious, imperious, and looking to score a last word (if this is what we are truly all about).
