noticing and photographing
the garbage
again
pressed down
done finished depleted
I am sentimental
I keep things
I watch them change thru the seasons
with the light
sometimes for years
for months
sometimes only for days
or weeks
I can not let anything go
I eke every last ounce of beauty from all that comes into my life
suck out all the life
I keep things
I hold on
I cling
and even when I know its finally time to let go
I continue to see its beauty
in the garbage
again
what is with me
somehow there seems reason to attach even more attention to what remains
after the living and thriving have ceased
there's a delicacy
something fragile and precious and beautiful
in the broken remains
and this...
is with dried up
shriveled up meaningless flower bouquets
not attached to any particular occasion or memory
how do I think I could possibly toss aside
anything of actual importance
anything that has been of value
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