Notebooks

Retirement, divorce, the completion of a novel, changes of dwelling — seventy-two, with no plan. Searching, sorting, questioning. Paring down.

From this altered vantage point, the past appears from unaccustomed angles. The need to take notes arises: notebooks.

These texts do not narrate. They record recognition.

Meaning arrives late — through bodies, through repetition, through endurance.

They are not conclusions. They have become part of my method.