ABOUT HOLLIS PORTER

I guess the closest comparison is that moment you step out of a hot shower into a cold room. There’s a residual memory of comfort—something that feels like you—but it fades away. Your true being condensing before dimming in the chill. Transfiguration into something else. Someone else.

Hollis writes. He lives in Hong Kong, though he is not from there. But that’s okay. When he’s not writing, Hollis can be found among the trees; upon the waves; below the sky—this city’s not all concrete. Like words, the place has life; it breathes.

Hollis breathes too.