I spent all day Saturday looking for a particular piece I wrote on September 11th, 2001. I couldn’t find it, but in the search I found all my old journals and other writing that goes back pretty far. Some things are the same. A lot is different. I want to give that kid/younger twenty-something a hug, and tell her to stop worrying. We’re not in Back to the Future, so I can’t. But I can do this: Dear you, Relax. …
I’ve been away from the computer for the last few days. Away from the computer, but not without my notebook. I started writing the lines that make up this post while on the train to Glasgow on Thursday. I like trains, and I love writing while in transit. Something about the rhythm of the journey colours the words, knowing that that there will be some sort of evidence of change from beginning to end. I’ve loved notebooks for as long…
