collage by monica brand
collage by monica brand
A washed out seashell, empty of mollusk, filled with memoriesimage-6240078-10451141 that manifest in ghost dreams. A portrait by Irving Penn. You as a young boy with a pet lamb? A Seydou Keita odalisqueimage-6240078-10451141, her faraway gaze mirroring Anouk in Comme des Garcons graphic garb. I had a shirt like that once. I wore it till it beganimage-6240078-10451141 to disintegrate.
I was reading a book of short stories by Sam Shepard. One day he returns to the town he grew upimage-6240078-10451141 in. Fragments of narrative. Jagged recollections. Disjointedness of the American tongueimage-6240078-10451141. The unknown being much bigger, running around in the body of a child, he wrote. Pawnshop of the mind.
I was thinking about how as a child the unknown seemed much smaller. Maybe that’s because I was an immigrant. And a girlimage-6240078-10451141. I ran around a lot too. All over. Especially within myself. I don’t rememberimage-6240078-10451141 caring much about whether things were black and white. And I still don’t.

Still running too, I suppose.