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What I dig at year's end? The roundups. The wrap-ups. The looking back and taking stock. My literary year was all contrasts: read a ton, wrote about almost nothing (drafts piled up like unread paperbacks...), and the books that grabbed me by the throat were few.
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"Lucky I found art—psychologically speaking, I had everything it takes to become a terrorist." That's Niki de Saint-Phalle talking. Back in 2022, I wandered through the massive retrospective the Grand Palais threw for her. Blew me away.
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"At some point, we gotta cut down these ghosts hanging from the trees. Can't let them swing there forever." They turned 17 or 18 in the year 2000, in the nowhere town of New Canaan, Ohio. Watched it all happen live on repeat.
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"The wheel's movements carry beings from death to birth, from rebirth to death again, always in pain. From the bloody hands of midwives to the shoulders of gravediggers with their long faces, toward earth or fire—never getting the rest they chase."
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