I doggedly asked each PennySaver seller if they used a computer. […] I began to feel that I was asking the question just to remind myself that I was in a place where computers didn't really matter, just to prompt my appreciation for this. As if I feared the scope of what I could feel and imagine was being quietly limited by the world within a world, the internet. [. . .} I don't mean that I really thought this, out loud; it was just happening, like time, like geography. The web seemed so inherently endless that it didn't occur to me what wasn't there.
— from It Chooses You
Miranda July: The second you step out of the usual ways that you connect, you become self-aware of connecting, and so maybe it becomes more of a topic. The idea of class, and different L.A.s inside L.A., was sort of unavoidable, and I wasn't trying to avoid it. I was going straight towards it. Craigslist vs. the PennySaver was an obvious way to talk about that and think about it. That's familiar to everyone. I'm interested in forcing myself to not just critique what's there but to try and see what's not there. The internet is what it is, and we each have our own struggle with it. But since this moment is pretty ephemeral, this particular time where not everyone is on it, but most of us are, it's a real harsh dividing line. When you stop on the other side of it, it's like you're in another era. It's like living without a phone.
If there's any theme of my process, it's generally to go towards what's uncomfortable, or things that I'm not even certain are there, or are anything at all.
The door opened and there was Michael, a man in his late sixties, burly, broad-shouldered, a bulbous nose, a magenta blouse, boobs, pink lipstick. Before he opened the door completely he quietly stated that he was going through a gender transformation.
Miranda: When did you begin your gender transformation?
Michael: Six months a...