Harking back to this post from November, I am trying to hold an elusive love for this city, which is so beautiful, and sometimes so difficult for me to love.
To love any city, you must forgive its clutter of people, its indolence, its indifference, sternness, distance.
There will always be history; streets stacked upon streets. The writing of others. There will always been this fine balancing act between peace and chaos, between the unsaid and the unsayable.
To love this city, Edinburgh, I have to move past my past, the written and unwritten signs, palimpsests, to make old markers new.
Resignify. Remake. Write over. Learn to see. Gather. Write my own story between the stone and the sky.