‍‍A meander cannot be “put back” any more than a story can be un-told. What was, is folded into what is, and what is becoming refuses to be extracted from that braid. To defend meandering is not to defend inaction; on the contrary, it is to defend the ‘right’ of rivers, of people, of histories, to remain excessive to our diagrams.

It is with this sense of excess that, I think, Maiandros bequeaths another gift to our exhausted landscapes, our exhausted, bomb-strewn, orange-weathered, days of the fire this time. This time, not just the word ‘meander’, but a cosmopoetics of living amidst the storm. Of hosting the curve. Of dwelling within the agonistic roil and toil of a universe that resists straight lines....

Read the full article in Meander Magazine Volume One: Returning to Place