The way my parents tell it, that Sunday evening they found me, obligatorily sitting on the floor with the other kids, facing away from the TV, huddled up in a ball, and crying quietly. Something about the film had petrified me.
So life is like a verb. It’s like acting, like moving, like being, like wanting, like connecting, like paying attention, like loving. It’s none of these things and all of them.
Constructing a layered birthday cake is an exercise in precision, but it is also an act of love, attentiveness, and personalization.
