Peter’s study looks like—well, let him describe it. “I have my piles,” he says. “Everything I do goes into a pile. There are little piles and big piles, stacks of papers, stacks of magazines, stacks of books, stacks of bills. Some stacks are mixed. It’s like a field, little piles with white tops scattered everywhere like mushrooms. There’s no real organization to any of it. I’ll just think that pile looks a little small, I can add something to it, or this space needs a new pile, or these things I’ll move over to this other pile. Somehow or other, I survive. The piles and I must be in some kind
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