Orion Magazine | Brittle Stars
IN THOSE DAYS we were held by water. I came into being by an abyss, the deepest sea in the world. My parents raised me on a forty-three-foot sailboat in the Southern Hemisphere. For twelve years, the world settled on us as brine and brushed our toes with kelp. Even now when I think of touch, I think of ocean. By way of explanation, I used to say about writing that the process involves taking discrete ideas and throwing them up in the dark as star tacks. You write yourself from one sharp point to another and back again, tacking and threading. When you stop and step back, a constellation ...
Source: orionmagazine.org