There are few people who know me. I mean, really know me. Talking to me isn’t enough. That takes too much time. Conversations go off on tangents and you can say a lot without learning anything at all.

To really know me, you have to read something I’ve written. Not the academic high-and-mighty, writing-to-impress stuff I did for college class or to get a small grant for my career. You have to read the blogs and my creative writing. You have to chat with me.

Though they say that texting and chatting has taken us away from the world; that we are too busy to look up from our tiny screens and see what’s right before us, it allows us to connect on a more intimate level.

One year some distant cousins arrived very late at my house and slipped into the camper us kids were sleeping in so the adults could have our beds. We woke before the sun and talked. When we could finally see each other, we clammed up. The awkwardness of sight ruined the connection.

To really see me, you have to close your eyes and listen.