One day, not only will I write again, in the way I imagine I used to write, but I will also want to write again.
That day is not today, but it feels much closer. There's no special reason for this, nor any special event. Just the desire to write again, no longer deep in the ground, but just beneath the surface.
This space, which has gone from arts, to philosophy, to German, and lately, uh, to Rob Ford, has been nothing but a good thing for me, and I see no reason why it should stop, unless the people at blogger decide that I should begin to pay large sums of money for the privilege.
So although the posting is sparse, the end is nowhere year. This space is no longer a project with an end date.