We Come Like Water And We Go Like Wind

A photo of blank lined paper

Agnes Martin, ‘Morning’ (1965)

Dear Reader,

All things including bodies are perpetually changing, being formed and affected by the force of every legible and illegible collision (from intestinal bacteria to heritable traits to a cold breeze), and so it might be correct to say that this thing I call my self is actually much more fluid (and much larger) than I have been schooled to believe.

—Harry Dodge, My Meteorite: Or, Without the Random There Can Be No New Thing

I've been thinking a lot about coincidences lately. Or the difference between coincidence and affinity. Or maybe I've just been thinking about all the friends and readers I met over the past few years.

During my time at Ethos Books, I feel fortunate to witness a public reckoning with social inequality in our country, to celebrate the first woman poet to win the Singapore Literature Prize, and to spend an unforgettable Valentine's with both friends and lovers of literature at the coolest indie cinema.

It has been most wonderful.

Thank you all for reading my letters. I'm forever grateful for your time and attention. See you on the other side.


(From February 27, 2021)