About

This is a place where I write because I have always written.

I have always written. I don’t know if I could explain why — only that it has always felt necessary.
I don’t remember a moment when words did not feel like something to return to. As a child, I made my own small books — loose sheets clumsily stapled together, covers drawn by hand, stories written carefully inside. They were not remarkable, but they were deliberate. I cared about grammar. About rhythm. About choosing the right word, even then.

Writing, for me, has never been performative. It is not something I do to be seen, but something I do rather to remain attentive — to my thoughts, to what I notice, to what lingers after everything else has quieted. I am drawn to art that asks for patience: books read slowly, music listened to all the way through, objects that bear the marks of use.

This space exists as a record of that attentiveness. Observations, fragments, reflections — notes left in the margins of an ordinary life. Some entries may be fleeting, others more deliberate, but all of them are written with care.

Some things are worth recording, even if no one is watching.