So podcast we are. And so Ortiz. We are also a little spazzy with excitement at jump, not to mention nose runny, but that's not all, truly, because there is Los Angeles, Twitter, and friendship, Sean H Doyle, seekers, fever dreams, Excavation, Cari Luna, power dynamics, projections, Brad Listi, Bruja, boundaries, memory, truth, both Chelsea Hodson, and Martin, kids, work and if all that is not enough, there is Hollywood Notebook and all of its Jim Carrollesque revelry too, which we so planned to read in time for the podcast, but failed miserably to do, only to be consumed in time for this post, leaving us with the breathless belief that with Ortiz, writing is performance art, and that she is ever-discovering, then illuminating, fragments of herself on the page, only to have the words, and memories, stamp themselves onto our collective brain.
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