6/14/97, 11:31pm – 6/15/07, 11:02pm
it all happen in spring 1996, but in june of 1997, across the street from the visual studies workshop and not so far from where minor white did and thought his things in rochester ny, sitting in a church converted into a boarding/halfway house, i decided i would write it all down, i didn’t want to forget a single thing.
i can remember writing it so well, the bad desk lamp bounced off the wall, the single window open, the breeze of the crisp june rochester air coming through the window, the soft sounds of night outside and listening to those renting the rooms around me scream and fight because they were trapped in their little rooms too. i couldn’t write fast enough.
i dare you to read it here.
i wrote this in a journal i have since given away, i have no good copy of this story, other then what i am posting here. i wrote at the little desk where the light table is in the photo linked below, that walmart bag and paper isn’t trash, but rather the only bag large enough to hold all the film i just had processed and was scrambling to get printed that summer. i think some part of me knew that vacuum of living and breathing what you love with no regard for the daily nuisance of making a living and normal everyday life was about to end, i miss that vacuum.
this is where i lived:
[chapel hill]
this is who it is about:
