The journals
The real ones. The backwards ones. I buried them. All over. That’s the secret. From Yellow Gap Trail in Pisgah National Forest to Abiquiu, New Mexico, I buried my notebooks.
The ballet of the pen is at times, divine
The real ones. The backwards ones. I buried them. All over. That’s the secret. From Yellow Gap Trail in Pisgah National Forest to Abiquiu, New Mexico, I buried my notebooks.
Rash-ish, at least.