DEPTH RESISTANCE & BOOK BOUNTY

Sometimes I feel like I’m living on the surface; skimming surely over the top without ever managing to puncture through and end up submerged. I can go for long periods of time living up here, skating along. It makes it hard to write. It makes it hard to come up with a true story; no description is deep enough for veracity. Maybe it’s the wintertime, the darkness, the sluggish response to everything. Maybe it’s the way my eyes slide along the surface, too. I don’t see things or I don’t stop for them, the way I do in the spring...