I was on a train from Ghent to Antwerp earlier this month, on my way to Amsterdam to catch a flight home the next day. And yes, I could have included at least one more city name in that sentence but I chose not to. I was relaxing to Miles Davis (Bitches Brew) after a long work week and reading a commentary on the Heart Sutra and was about halfway through the section on "form is emptiness, emptiness is form," when I was startled by the sudden appearance of the ticket collector. It took me a second to get my head back in the world around me and start fumbling through my overstuffed bag, but I knew right away something was wrong.







