LIFE BEYOND THE IMAGE
What Arrives, Soon
I now notice a quiet apparatus assembling itself: notes, scraps, and brief signals. Nothing stays long. The page you see may be here only for a moment—then it goes. If this is treason against permanence, make the most of it.
1) Only modest materials are used: plain text, a little light, the sound of a page turning. The aim is clarity without ornament, ornament without noise.
2) Posts appear and vanish on a schedule unannounced. If a piece matters to you, sit with it now. The archive is the breath you hold.
3) The green-titled entries may hide a door. Some lead to quiet rooms, some to maps, and occasionally to nothing at all.
4) On certain days—a moving fortress—this site accepts messages. Words only, or a brief voice. When that window opens, step in.