Friday, January 18, 2013

Getting into old clothes is like trying to fit into an old skin. You stretch and tuck, trying to find an old self. As if they are in the clothes, not in you. As if you could finally pull the zipper closed, step in front of the mirror, and be looking into your 17-year-old self's eyes. As if you could travel a thousand miles in the time it takes to pull the dress over your head, be standing in your old bedroom, the night before you graduate high school. 

Instead there is a tug inside you. All of the people who inhabited this dress converge and merge into one person. And as always, it's just you inside a dress. Always just you. Is there no separating your mind from time? 


  1. There is no seperating the mind from time. Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself exactly how old I am now. It's like waking from an intense dream and forgetting where you fell asleep. Have you ever read any Tom Robbins novels? He writes a lot about the concepts of time, and you may enjoy him. As always, your images amaze me.

  2. when I read this:
    the tug inside me was watching many images of my daughter [all the little pictures in my mind, remembrances of her at age 18,12,8,2, snuggled in my arms] all those images converge and merge into an amazing young woman. my mind likes time.


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