Dear Reader

Words, sounds and images this way lie.

Ideas, all. Masquerading in different media. Competing for resources and reproductive rights alongside every other idea. I’m the gatekeeper. I, meaning the single entry point of consciousness embodied, a glass ceiling of order imposed on the chaos of the material.

It might be something else entirely, as you perceive it through your unique filters. But this is also an intimate conversation, or put another way, the inner monologue out loud. I write so that I can read the unspoken word. I draw so I can see the invisible world. I make music to hear movements and I take pictures to savor dreams.

This can also be a conversation, if you add to it.