A friend convinced me to move to a more public place. Where an imagined unknown audience is taking in the words. And the only person I can imagine is my troll. But who maybe now that Trump has won and his buddy at Breibart appointed as White House chief strategist, has no time for trolling feminists.

Oh well.

I am trying to learn to love this interface. Writing is so much about space, and there is a lot of clutter here. Too many options. All I want is a blank sheet to think through. And writing is also emotive. This feeling of being held by a sense of quiet self. In a body of water, looking at sky, light in small shards on the body of ripples.

This is not going to be a site for cohesive thought or thesis. I think the words will be too reticent to take form and I don’t really have enough time to work things out fully before putting them out. Not right now anyway. I came across this quote on the flickering light of Twitter today, that starting to write is always just the first draft, so write quickly and get the mistakes all out. So consider this first draft writing. Which hopefully will mean I end up writing more for something like GenderIT soon enough.

So hello, half-formed thoughts. I rented this elbow room for three years. So let’s make it count.