Goodbye to Language
To borrow Godard's title is to admit that speech is never enough. I move through days with a surplus of feeling and image that language cannot carry. Photography, poems, and diary entries become another grammar, one that keeps the grain of time: dust on a window, a street after rain, the hush of a room at night. In this sense, Goodbye to Language is not an escape from language, but a widening of it, a listening for the other ways a life reveals itself.
The website will gather personal recordings of many kinds: short poems, long diaristic notes, sequences of photographs, letters to no one, and fragments that do not yet know what they are. Some posts will be dated like postcards; others will float without context. The archive will be tender and imperfect, a slow collection of attention rather than a finished story. I want it to feel like a desk with paper scattered across it, a place where thoughts can stay unfinished and still be true.
If words are bridges, I keep walking along the water instead, tracing reflections and reeds. The work here is to keep company with what is small: a breath, a shadow, a sentence that breaks. By tending to fragments, I hope to expand my personal world and offer a quiet place for yours to rest beside it.
