Where do I come from? How did I get here? Like this? Well, as a conspiration of the molecules, atoms, events and relationships, history and cataclysms have brought me here. And here is where I am from; I will live from here. Flesh from the edge of space, from the

I live so far away from who I wanted to be when I grew up – a scientist, my world built on what could be proven with measurement, numbers, and the experiments woven from them. My world is now language and ideas, things that are ever in motion and often

The numeric exponent that might calculate the number of missed possibilities from any final outcome achieved would wrap the world with its length. It’s incalculable. Every word we uttered or wrote, every ornament we chose for the Christmas tree, and any book we finally picked up to read over the

I can hardly write. The words pasted over this morning’s Almanac card slayed me. Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published never forget you are a breathing accident of chance ample with reverberations of the impossible a bright buoyant moment in the dark indifferent stream of

“[P]atience with all attempts at changing … is respect bestowed on the present…” Maria Popova This quote, from Maria Popova’s An Almanac of Birds, caused me to pause when I first read it. Of course that is true! Taking our time to move away from what has been is a