You cannot disown what is yours. Flung out, there is always the return, the reckoning, the revenge, perhaps the reconciliation. There is always the return. And the wound will take you there.

Every journey conceals another journey within its lines: the path not taken and the forgotten angle.

Every journey conceals another journey within its lines; the path not taken and the forgotten angle. These are the journeys I wish to record. Not the ones I made, but the ones I might have made, or perhaps did make in some other place or time.

The journey is not linear, it is always back and forth, denying the calendar, the wrinkles and lines of the body.