The latter half of my life has been spent in English speaking North America. Mexico City figures in the early half of my life. In my slow understanding of things, of places, there are flexible areas that go back and forth between languages and landscapes. I need those areas. Without them, there would be a loss of access to a personal vernacular. The vernacular of which I speak, is both large, like an arena or a field, and small, like a code shared by those of us who move in more than one place and in more than one language. When we meet each other in the world, there is often relief. We cannot fully go back to where we came from. Something else would be amiss. It is not that the center has shifted. It has split into several.