Architecture
How the absence of one father built everything that came after. The volatility of the house I grew up in, the constant reading of a room that it took to stay safe there, and the substitutes I went looking for once he was gone. A boy's hunger for a father he could not have became the hidden force behind every system he spent the next two decades constructing.
Collapse
How those systems came apart. The strange intensity of becoming a father myself and what it made me ask about the one I had. My father's death, and the hope that went with it. And the faith, which had been holding all of it, finally giving way.
Embodiment
What it is like to come loose. The physical toll of it, how close it brought me to not surviving it, and the slow discovery that meaning could not be inherited or argued into place. It had to be made, in a body, with my hands. This is what it looks like to start generating your own gravity.