Now

Sitting. Shikantaza each morning, as ever. Nothing special, which is the point.

Reading. See the reading shelf for what’s finished; there’s usually something half-read on the table beside it.

Writing. Personal letters and poems, by hand—slow and intentional, the way only ink can be.

Photographing. Whatever shows itself—mostly small things close to home.

Tending. This site, slowly, by hand.

This is a now page. Updated when the season turns, or when something changes—whichever comes first.