This book was a personal note and a fever dream. Written in a two-week mind coma of my inner world while the outer world version of me was working on autopilot through the motions. Crazy to wake up and see that you wrote a book about your childhood and its ponderings while somersaulting through an undertow. I usually design in that space, but the underneath had something else to say, I suppose—definitely, not anything I would say on a post or a group of friends. Mostly just things I shared with my journal or my closest who hear me nonspeak more than my actual speak.
What a way to wake up. I went from being 11 years old to being in my forties within two weeks. I wouldn’t say it was anything new. It seems like it is and always was something we all do several times in each life and in rotations within others. The only new here was that process. I usually see things in my mind and make them tangible, as in jewelry. Here, it was tangible… all real at one point, but then disappeared into my mind. All to watch myself bring it back out and make it tangible again.
This book is a personal note that I didn’t want actually to release, but I had already let Patreons pre-order it. After I read it, I was not sure how I would feel about other people reading it. This is all of my nonspeak as a result of being forced to be overspoken. My inner child, sitting on the banks of my childhood creek with my adult self. Not just me at the age I am now but every age that I have been. A thousand versions reaching to a becoming that only longs to talk to the beginning. Ah, how the snake always eats his tail.
This limited version will be released publicly for a very short time. Patreons will be able to continue order copies if they wish.
White Clover can be found here:
Thank you for treading the waters with me.