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Pages are cavernous places, white at entrance, black in absorption. Echo. If I’m transformed by language, I am often crouched in footnote or blazing in title. Where in the body do I begin; What’s your deal with burnout, my librarian aka Mr. Minus? After several months of listening to me speak from your shelves, you’ve […]
I will stop speaking tomorrow here, in this medium and so I have to make sure every word counts. My librarian once told me – told you through me – that he wanted to flesh out my voice; make it singular. He wanted you to be able to hear the rustle of language as I […]
He cannot talk to his father about Our Library of the Future, but even if he could, I don’t know if he would be able to. There is a (radical?) softness to his openness to the flow of books from here to there, not to mention my presence as a narrator of sorts, that questions […]