#1 (Kansas, 1997)
These things do not happen in great leaps as we envision they would. There is no cataclysmic vaulting of ourselves across the void, just a gentle stepping, down the sides, through the center of nothing, and then back up; the other side.
Our mistakes come from expecting a largeness of event and missing the expanse which instead stretches quietly out before us. Those of us who have stepped across do realize it eventually. It is not the event which matters so much as what happens beyond.
I have grown to appreciate the wide open spaces, they do not scare me anymore. There is comfort in their emptiness, and their emptiness is the self.
This motion is no longer nervousness, it seems. The movement is simply a part of what I do, a projection of who I am. The change is a comfort, it is constant in its unpredictability, and without the wide open spaces, there would be nothing left for us to aspire to travel across.
The Garden of Shadow and Bone 