Just how it happened isn't clear, but somehow I had important encounters with various media and even old objects themselves, both alone and with the closest of friends. I was fortunate to experience a shift in thinking from the merely theoretical to the specific, the personal. Certain times and places and ideas in my own history have become personal symbols for that awakening fascination, and now time and reflection are endlessly folding back on themselves, again and again.
Picking up an old object, reading a story, closing your eyes and looking: this is how one time can touch another.
* * *
evocative films
old black and white days and nights
ephemeral lives
Bakelite jewelry
mysterious aroma
when rubbed gives off life
rows of doll dresses
still sealed, unattainable
in dreams became mine
strawberry incense
joyous rain gray adventure
we bought vintage hats
an old trunk opens
antique shop morning darkness
perfumed time drifts out
who held this mirror?
peering now past old glass ghosts
her expression gone
the phantom tollbooth
through the looking glass Alice
those wrinkles in time
Brownie camera
treasured chalice held waist high
claims tomorrow's gifts
young me wrote letters
for tomorrow's me to read
which one of me lost
wearing my blue jeans
with a War-time jacket
but she'll never know
* * *