The plane rumbles and my lip is trembling and I wonder why and the wheels leave the ground and my eyes are wet and I can't keep my lip from trembling, there are three people I can see in my head, a father, a daughter, and someone I just started to think about yesterday.
Ongoing dialogue with you about media, performance, ritual. Reflections of you, traces of me, shadows playing in the dark when no one can see.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
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