I don't know why it is happening now, I don't know why I have to do this, but in this era of forgetfulness and wonder I am creeping around the edges of myself trying to explore without sight the texture of my knowledge, the superstructure of my understanding, the boundaries which I overflow. I am on an expedition to chart the inside of my body. I am just under the terrain of my own skin, poised as if at the edge of a glacial ravine, trying to document what is work and what is gender and what is guts and what is memory and what is humorous from a local position, through the thin olive atmospheric haze of my skin, continuous from my arm to my hip to the lid of my eye.