Patricia and I are passing our time in Bangkok Thailand, one day threading seamlessly into the next. We float between worlds while we perfect the tricks that will help us conjure our tomorrow. We are in the process of disentangling ourselves from the past, prying ourselves away from a deeply satisfying drudgery that surely would have killed us before our time.
The hand of fate and a whisper of good fortune built this new flying machine that we now call home. Every day we practice becoming invisible, to excuse ourselves once and for all from this ersatz substitute for luck. I’ve waited a long time for Tennessee Williams to have an influence on my life. I was raised by wolves and deceptive phantasms with no appreciation for the arts of the mind. Patricia and I are on a journey, pushing ourselves past hope and dreams into attempting the impossible and risking failure. In the end, there’s nothing else, thanks Tennessee, it’s clear to me now.