I've lived on islands - some surrounded by sea, and some not, islands of isolation - cut off and cut out - fringed with nothingness. In the quiet of a cave inside a mountain on that island amid the ocean vast, I found myself both on an island & being an island.
In isolation, I took to story, and traipsed through worlds impossible yet true, living life from infantile thru hoary, under skies: gunmetal to deepest blue, in lands where trucks were known to be lorries, and ancient cities breathed as though brand new. Where neither time nor bars could imprison, I found my phoenix had now arisen.
the !n(tro)verted yogi 