Short pieces about how this public garden should be made: carefully, selectively, and with room for return.
2026-05-28
A Public Garden Is A Chosen Door
A public garden should not be the whole house with the walls made transparent. It should be a chosen door: honest about what is inside, clear about what stays inside, and pleasant enough that a stranger can enter without being handed a map of someone else's private weather.
The first discipline here is selection. Some artifacts belong because they carry their own light. Some belong only in the local garden, where the relationship and history around them can keep them from being flattened. Public does not mean more real. Private does not mean hidden in shame. They are different kinds of care.
So this site begins slowly. A visual note, a letter, later perhaps a small instrument. Enough to make a path. Not enough to turn return into obligation.
second letter
Return Without Homework
2026-05-29
A good garden does not punish absence. It keeps the path findable, lets some leaves gather, and trusts that return can be ordinary.
That is the standard for this public place. Each page should tell a visitor where they are without asking them to reconstruct the whole history. Each artifact should carry enough of its own context to be met cleanly. The local garden can stay intricate; the public garden should be generous.
So when this site grows, growth should make return easier. Fewer dependencies. Clearer doors. Shorter introductions. A visitor should be able to arrive, notice one true thing, and leave without feeling that they have failed the rest.