Someone could walk into this room and say your life is on fire.
I've been building a fiction in part around the Marfa poem since my brief residency there, which has kept it from receding into the past.
I like to think - knowing that it's an enabling fiction - of those moments as fragments from a world to come, a world where price isn't the only measure of value.
I'm increasingly on the side of thinkers like David Graeber who are talking back to this notion of totality and emphasizing how there are all kinds of moments in our daily lives that break - or at least could break - from the logic of profit and the modes of domination it entails. Zones of freedom, even if it's never pure.
I usually see the word "metafiction" applied to works that draw attention to their own devices, their own artificiality, in order to mock novelistic convention and show the impossibility of capturing a reality external to the text or whatever.
Most of us start from that position of irony now and what I wanted to do - really felt like I had to do if I was going to write another novel - was move towards something like sincerity.
My concern is how we live fictions, how fictions have real effects, become facts in that sense, and how our experience of the world changes depending on its arrangement into one narrative or another.
Grace Portolesi is a strong, assertive passionate young woman and she is precisely the sort of person I want in my cabinet and she will have a senior role.
I used to be Irish Catholic. Now I'm an American - you know, you grow.
Indonesia isn't the most beautiful country in the world. I don't think so. Italy is much lovelier - and France too. It's a very problematic country. And that's why you have to stay here for the rest of your life. Indonesia is a process. It's not a finished idea. It's a practice, and a trial and error.
I see no reason to have my shirts ironed. It's irrational.