If writing is a practice, it means that I just put myself in the present and flow with whatever arises. The temptation is to try to record experiences, but this never works. It moves me out of the now. Writing shouldn’t be a preservative. It should be its own moment.

For me, the ngondro is a kind of cummulative destabilising force. It creates a particular set of internal conditions that gather and gather until you’re juddering down the hillside on a river of scree and your backside. In other words, it’s a landslide in here. I want to pin down each rock and tussock with words, but they go by too fast. The only thing is to let go and slide.