...a literature ordered according to the infinite task of extracting from the depths of oneself, in between the words, a truth which the very form of the confession holds out like a shimmering mirage (Michel Foucault)
J: Now you are here. No longer shifting sands, but solid ground to stand on. We can build here – you and I. There is no limit to what we can create together, there are new dimensions opening up just out of the connection between us…do you sense it?
