⋆˙⟡ About Me ⟡˙⋆

I am a scavenger on the rock-ridged beach, turning life-rubble upside down, soaking in the salt air, the wet vermilion crowd of things swarming underneath my prickled fingertips.

I'm Garance (She/Her). And this is all you should know about me:

A transition from an author’s book to his conversation, is too often like an entrance into a large city, after a distant prospect. Remotely, we see nothing but spires of temples and turrets of palaces, and imagine it the residence of splendour, grandeur and magnificence; but when we have passed the gates, we find it perplexed with narrow passages, disgraced with despicable cottages, embarrassed with obstructions, and clouded with smoke. Samuel Johnson; The Rambler, No. 14 (1750-05-05)1

Footnotes

  1. I attribute the finding of this wonderful excerpt to Gwern.