Ananth's Blog

This morning, I had left the beachy environs of Ventura, CA and after what is almost 1000 kms, I am here in Cottonwood, AZ. Ventura stood out in its youthful excesses while driving through this very different America – This is the America of endless ranches, farms and hard-working Americans. It is the America that Taylor Sheridan generally writes about. Going through such variety of landscapes makes me feel dazed. And I have a mild anxiety of a strange kind. I worry that all these impressions that I picked up today will slowly dissolve into a dream tomorrow or maybe next month or next year and that eventually I’ll end up in the same place where I started and, in this process, I will lose something. Without pondering on the absurdity or the profundity of this mild anxiety, I want to proceed to documenting this journey so far. If nothing else, I think it will amuse a future version of myself reading through all this. Writing is, in fact – or any form of creativity or creation – is an a...