an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Saturday, May 12, 2007

. . . . . .

IMG_0073




And I thought how to explain so that you could know why I feel devastated too? That the worst possible thing that can happen to a kid has happened to him again and though he's thirty-five he's feeling it the way he did when he was nine which is about the time you realize you'll spend your life choosing to need people who don't need you back, that you'll marry one if you're not careful, that your oldest will be nine years old when the splitting off reminds her she always knew need ends this way but need is what they have a lot of so as you might expect things get smaller and smaller as they get older and older.


No. That's not how I'd say it. Let me try again:

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Horsefly in a great panic about getting trapped in the bathroom keeps slamming into the mirror as a way out. It doesn't see itself coming.

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&.

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"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"


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