Tuesday: Double Exposure Project

There are so many things in this town that haunt me. And this isn't even the setting of my history.

After work I rode to the library to exchange my old book for a new book, and also pay my one dollar library fine.

The ghosts of a yesterday that already feels like another lifetime crept out of the books as I pulled them out just enough for a peek. At the sight of the ghosts, a small ache rose in my heart. The ache of a girl who not too long ago felt she had lost everything with no chance of recovery. I believe that the last time I visited the library, there was still a hope. Now there is nothing but the new me and my new life.

In some ways I feel as though I was once on a course that was blown away at sea, and I've washed up on this island. Everyone on the ship died, save for myself, and in this new world I begin all over again. I imagine that my life will continue to cycle in and out of lifetimes, which is fine, because I never want to stop changing. Things are unpredictable and it keeps me sharp, flexible, agile, strong. I am not one to settle into a life. At least not for a long long time.

I would very much appreciate the restoration of my appetite, but it seems that for the time being, I have lost it. I'll go a while without eating and notice only when I became faint. I've dropped about four or five pounds and I feel very fragile, but when I cruise the aisles at Trader Joe's, nothing appeals to me.

On my way home from the library, a snack became urgent, so I wheeled across the street to Famima!! with mixed results.

We used to frequent Famima!!, he and I, in a beautiful bountiful time. It was a delightful, often drug-induced trip downtown to the cleanly glowing shelves: one meal, one dessert, and one rainbow-sugared drink.

With the ghosts creeping into me, a sign on the door informed "Our wonderful customers" that the particular location would be closing on Friday. I walked into a bleak alien world, the empty shelves a shock, the sleek sterile design once an aesthetic pleasure now a cold shoulder. None of my favorite treats were in stock, and I settled with a dagger in my heart. On a whim I bought a pack of Djarums and the long-haired kid at the counter said, "I see a lot of Japanese people smoking these." I said, "It was the only thing I smoked in high school." And he said, proudly, "I smoke these" and gestured to the Blacks. Unlocking my bike outside I realize that in my short life, high school is already a far away place. And it is only going to get farther. It all seemed lamely profound.

And one day I will look back on this and wonder at the child I was.

I recently received a package from him, which contained an item returned to me, negatives, a book, and a long letter. The words read like the end to a very beautiful fairytale about two young people in love. Which is exactly what we were and exactly what it was: raw, pure, impulsive, ultimately unable to sustain ourselves but eternally hopeful and naive. I wouldn't have it any other way, and if I could do it all over again, I would, mistakes and all.

And so here are the final photos of the double exposure project...or rather the last of them that I have seen. They were taken somewhere in the middle, but were not developed until the end. It is mostly my exposure which comes through in them, and that unexpectedly suits the end of our story. I am left here with only myself, my pain, and my joy. I grieve alone and I rejoice alone. But where I am out of focus in the photos, I am clear now. This is it. It is over. It is time to move onto the next stage of the project, and it is time for me to move on to the next stage of my life.










Double exposure project 2008/2009

I know you are out there, Samuel, and I know you are reading this. I cannot have you in my life right now, and after this, I will not speak to you through any outlet - it would hinder your recovery to do so. Know that I loved you tremendously, and that I always will. I wish you only the best on your life journey and I know you will achieve great things.

Sweetest, most sorrowful farewell to you, my Once Upon A Time, may our love story live on in our artworks and in our hearts. Remember me fondly, but keep your gaze toward the future.

Thank you for everything, I can truly say I am a better person for having known you.

Good-bye good-bye good-bye.