It’ll never be known how this has to be told, in the first person or in the second, using the third person plural or continually inventing modes that will serve for nothing. If one might say: I will see the moon rose, or: we hurt me at the back of my eyes, and especially: you the blond woman was the clouds that race before my your his our yours their faces. What the hell.

— Julio Cortazar, “Blow Up”

Rara Curiositas was the codename for the little poems, extended thoughts, and fiction that I was writing since I’d moved to Portland. My way of continuing this – only publicly, every Wednesday.