What topic do I want to write about? I don’t want to write “about” anything. Writing “about” something is not what I want. When I write “about” something, I create an object by writing. I take a topic and treat it like an object. I treat it like an object…

Finally, there was a feeling. The feeling was: anger. It was anger at myself. It was anger at everything. Just like that: anger. It was yesterday, Tuesday. It was in the morning. It was after writing, just before I left the apartment to drive to the office. This anger was…

No idea what there is to write this morning. No idea what I’m feeling this morning. The nose is congested. Not from sniffles. But of tension. I move the pelvis on the basketwork of the chair. The tension should disappear. I want it to go away. In the night I…

Writing down memories. I don’t do anything else. Memories are transformed, altered experiences. Memories obscure, they contaminate the experience. Through feeling, through thinking, through whatever processes within myself. And that’s what I write down. Transform what I have experienced into something remembered — and write it down. …

It’s 7:30am. I’m sitting at my desk. To my right the balcony door, behind it a balcony made of wooden floorboards and with a white parapet. Behind it the water. Lake Ontario. The sound in the ear. Light noise from outside rain, light wind, light waves on the beach. The…

I turn on the lights. Outside, the morning dawns. A cloudless sky. It’s cool. I wear felt slippers and a cotton cap, sitting at my desk and making green signs of ink on white paper. Writing. I breathe. I think. I take a deep breath. And I feel how thinking…

Today my mother died. Eight years ago. There was a call from Lexi, Matthew´s wife. She had been in Mansfield for a few days. She was the only one…, she was the only person my mother…, she was the only one who felt the need to visit my mother. Lexi…

It has been wonderful weeks, the weeks after the surgery. No alcohol. Not too tired in the morning. Clear. That is now passing. Again I am tired in the morning. Yesterday and the day before yesterday there was a bottle of beautiful Washington State rosé. To relieve tension in the…

“I want to point out a shyness that unites, not divides.” What a strange sentence. It was raining. The sentence and the rain: that’s what I dreamed. I watched a man. I watched him so as I look at a man in a movie. In the film, the man sings…