Tuesday, March 27
Elizabeth is making an assemblage for a class assignment. She’s going through stacks of photos and transparencies - kids from the Free School, kids she’s nannied. Children everywhere. Guys she used to date. People playing guitars and running around in the woods. The ocean.
I’ve got artifacts like these too. It all feels like it’s from some parallel existence. Not one so much in the past as it’s just in a life that I never really lived, but can somehow remember anyway.
This is what happens.