An Invitation
Rent is through the roof these days and you know the landlord ain’t paying the repairs. Home itself, as a place, as a skill, is fugitive, a foreign country for lost people. For the time being, this little space will constitute temporary sanctuary, housing my writing (and accompanying podcast projects) for you and yours.
Outside of my intercultural projects and manuscript writing, this will be a place for me to translate the foreign tongues that saddle up to my ears, my deep consternation, the marginal wondering, the a-sides remixed and rooted, the occasional rant and review, and poetry perhaps, all seasoned on the spitroast of how it came to be this way.
I was drawn from deeply troubled, travelling people. I was sculpted in a land of exiles and insecurity. Such themes seem to have met at the confluence of my life’s work. Thankfully, it doesn’t have to be done alone. Thankfully, much of what and whom cradles the chorus of this voice include the following elders: John Berger, Leslie Marmon Silko, Stephen Jenkinson, James Baldwin, David Graeber, Simone Weil, Gustavo Esteva, Ivan Illich, Donna Haraway, Martin Prechtel, Bayo Akomolafe, Peter Kingsley, James Hillman, Sarah Schulman, Peter Lamborn Wilson and Robert Anton Wilson, to name but a few. If any of their work resonates with you or at least challenges you, we’re probably in good company.
Full disclosure: I don’t write for the sake of it. I won’t publish something to fulfill a monthly quota. I won’t. What that means is you might not hear from me every two weeks, but when you do, it’ll be important to me (and all willing, to you too). This site of speculation is set to accompany (book) manuscript and storytelling curation that I pray might find their way into the world and honour the times in a way worthy of your attention, awe, and consideration.
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Blessings
Chris
