I have to admit, I am starting this website knowing that I don't know anything.

But my intention is to start. Something.

I want to learn to build a commune for my loves, under anarchist principles, and learn how to love and care for them under the same. Here, I'll collect resources, gather insight and show my process of consolidating this information into my life practice.

The place I'm beginning from: my loves, my family, my babies, whom I had the luck to share a single city with for some time, whom I've come to realise might be the great loves of my life in that profound, anarchic way, are now scattered in various parts of Europe. Those I'm lucky enough to still be sharing a city with are scattered in their own way, with the pressure of work, education, and generally being in their twenties, and surely, I am too.

The last few years have brought into stark relief the dissatisfactions that have fared so well, latent, inside of me, with how I've decided to run my life, or at least fare with the life I've inherited intergenerationally. The persistent feeling of, despite various successes, feeling like an utter failure. Realising I have been failing my deeper values alongside those of the capitalist hellscape we live in, by virtue of measuring myself against them. Succeeding by many metrics as an artist, knowing only that it is because I have had the privilege of time, enabled by wealth, to develop my skills, apply for opportunities, iterate into infinity, love the process into the small hours of the night. It has allowed me to surmount my queerness, my likely neurodivergence. I've been given so many second chances, and taken advantage of them, and am still left empty. The art I make is in many ways not the art I would make if I could truly embrace anarchic failure.

It's not wrong to love the generous time that I get, and to want to continue at this pace, or slower still. The problem is that those I love do not have it, and I want them to. I want slowness to spread itself across my networks, until it reaches strangers.

Success, legacy and self-actualisation are changing for me. I want to build and be the refuge for my loves, and I have the capacity to do it. Begin the process that I hope we might continue together.

The heartbreaking nature of life under late-stage capitalism pushes us to seek comfort either within it, or without it. I want to choose without, and imagine without. Escapism is not a hollow activity. When me and my loves dream of living out there, communally, slowly, contributing to new and existing communities, loving our most vulnerable (including ourselves), the true joy of it is that it truly is possible, and most possible to us, even immediately, is setting intention to take it seriously, resist the cynicism the world has taught us to have about non-normative plans. It is not a joke. I want to be the catalyst for the refuge we truly could build together. Together, from that place of refuge, we can become that for the wider community.

Its going to take a lot of (joyful) work and learning to truly feel it and emobdy these philospophies, let alone implement them. I haven't before felt so much internal resistance, such a fear of the unknown, as now. It is painful to realise just how much programming lies under our individual hoods, but what a relief to feel the destabilision that internal transformation brings, again. I was worried, as some aspects of my gender- and sexual identites were beginning to settle, that I'd have little left to explore about my core values and drives, and that discomfort now would only come from the inevitable struggle of finding my place in normative life scripts and trajectories.

Home as a wider idea has never felt so fragile, than now, even though I know with some certainty that I should never be homeless. The only true fear is limitation, return to my home of origin and retroactively failing to launch. For some in my life, it is this fear. For others, the safety net has deteriorated. The commodification of home and shelter nationally and globally leaves me shaking with rage. It is so obviously wrong that finding something as basic as home, stability, privacy, living with/near loved ones is where so many of us feel that our ideal lives come to a halt. How can this be where we already find ourselves derailed?

The lordlord class, that enjoys particular privilege in my nation of origin, disgusts me. It feels like a moral duty to band together to pay as little rent as possible, and find serendipity in that.

Alongside this spite, with my babies, it is the slow realisation that our shared values, dreams, love and wishes for escape from this system (as much as we can in our lifetimes) align to the extent that we can admit to each other that our futures, our everydays, could be built around each other, under principles of radical honesty, abundant love, mutual aid, slowness, gentleness, allowing and anarchic legacy-building. A loving, restorative relationship to and with nature. Spirit in all that we do and transcendence found in the mundane, the rituals of a life crafted with intentionality. There is so much excitement, here.

We deserve to have homes as we wish. We deserve to have time. We deserve to be able to use our time to benefit ourselves, our loved ones and the wider community. We deserve to approach life from a place of gentleness, slowness and abundance. We deserve lives outside of escalators, perfection and retrograde traditions. We deserve to live fully immersed in our interests, and cultivate an amorous relationship to the daily work that makes something like this happen.

It's likely that site will ultimately be undated very seldom, as these things can go. I want to let it develop organically and be a little hopecreature of its own.

This website is at least a shrine to intention for this to unfold, and an acknowledgement of possibility. Something to comfort myself and my loves, and you, if you feel inclined in this way too. The Internet has become a different place, and I am not old at all, even though watching soon-to-be history unfold ages and despairs me. My research into these topics has brought me to dead blog upon dead blog, pages mercifully preserved oftentimes in the Wayback Machine, or in the oldest of the old web. I have so often wanted to keep a blog, but never knew what to write about. I still don't, really, and I don't fancy myself myself to be amazing writer either. However, now I know that the need to collect with brick and mortar HTML sites is no less than it was, and insecurity isn't good enough reason to not do this work. The need is perhaps greater, as centralised commercial platforms are rendering most information unsearchable, inaccessible beyond its ridiculously short shelf life. Forums have melted into comment sections.

People need to find things. Information needs to be mirrored and redistributed. Every small website matters. Repetition is essential, websites are utterances just as much as they are repositories.

Curation is its own contribution, and this is my personal curation, what I want to take with me and give to my loves as we embark on this frightening but exhilarating stretch of our lives. And hold information that might otherwise somehow be lost.

I will cite everything as best as I can. I will reproduce what is ethical to. And make it usable to you, my loves (and you, anonymous lurker, are also my love). Let's survive this century. Let the ideas, the hope, the intention and surely, the action, last forever.