there's a thing the french call l'appel du vide. i felt it on a mountain road in greece on a hairpin road looking down at a crumpled car, and swinging in a harness going down devil's tower, and in those endless dreams running breathless along a crumbling path edging an abyss. it allies with the feeling of wildness that comes even in the city, when i feel fear, or when i feel the wave crush at pebble beach, or even looking at a dead grasshopper clinging to a dry stalk at the end of summer. also the rush of one body into another, a culmination both void and spirit.