There is this strange fog of being a young man that I would refer to as soft time. Time does not go forward there. It's a series of doors that kind of wind back into one another, like a series of doors in the upper floor of a house. You revisit the same lessons over and over again, or you choose to
“People love to see themselves on screen in a way that makes sense and seems on point.”
“A blind man can make art if what is in his mind can be passed to another mind in some tangible form.”