I felt myself then, just for a moment: whole, unfinished, and exactly mine.
Feeling oneself, I realized, was not an arrival but a series of brief, luminous confirmations. It was a practice you did in the open, even when the world kept trying to impose shapes on you. I would forget and remember, forget and remember, like a person learning to keep a difficult plant alive. Kylie’s voice was a seed in my pocket—small, stubborn. i feel myself kylie h 2021
I thought of how she’d painted her wall and thought: maybe we all get to paint something ridiculous across the rooms of our lives. Maybe we can invent murals that loop the sky and the sea and call them home. I felt myself then, just for a moment: