Spring 2026

Dear friend,

You found your way here…somehow, still…
through the quiet, through the long pause.
The geotracker blinks like a small, persistent star,
telling me you’ve passed by, even when I wasn’t here to greet you.

I’ve been resistant to this place, if I’m honest. I’m sure you have noticed.
Not abandoned…just… held at a distance.
Meanwhile, another online home has been taking shape slowly,
built in fragments of time,
in the margins of a life that keeps unfolding faster than expected.
It stalls, it resumes…
not from neglect, but from the sheer fullness of living.

There was a moment I lost the keys entirely
locked out by the usual digital ghosts:
WordPress, PHP, plugins conspiring in quiet chaos.
But I’m back now
opening windows, turning on a few lights,
letting the air move through again
until the next space is ready to bloom for us.

I am elsewhere, too.
Though this year, I’m trying, softly, imperfectly
to belong more to my days than to the screen.
To be here, in the unposted moments.

I’ve been questioning things.
Tending to old wounds.
Listening for that fragile, shifting threshold
between being an artist
and simply being a person
a line that feels thinner each year,
more permeable, more real.

The world, as it is, unsettles me greatly.
And still…
I remain in awe of what art can hold:
how it carries,
how it witnesses,
how it speaks where language fractures.
To take part in that,
to stand somewhere inside that current,
still feels like a profound, undeserved gift.

I’m glad you’re here…small updates here and there in the coming days.

Yours in creativity,

Matana

( incase you need a refresher: correct pronunciation of my name here)