slips of paper

I've only ever made one piece that meant anything to me--- in the sense that it was personal, or reflective of myself.

It wasn't detached.

I've been thinking about that piece a lot lately. (and I've probably written about it before, but oh well)

Those slips of paper held a lot of secrets. And I want to re-visit them somehow.

It was the perfect combination of cathartic reflection and retentive compartmentalization. It was relaxing and slightly masichistic in the repetitiveness and detail.

Full of contradictions that just fit.

But most importantly, it was a (relatively successful) representation of everything I am and have been dealing with. And I think that's pretty excellent.

But, the thing that sticks out in my mind is something else.

I remember when I was installing it Faeeza came up to me and made a comment on the note,

Never been in love.

None of the other 20+ notes stuck out to her, even after some prodding.

And I remember her response so vividly, only because she genuinely found great sadness in this.

And until then it never really occured to me how right she was. It is a little sad, but not abnormal I don't think.

I don't have much else on the matter ... but that encounter has sort of stayed with me. And lately I find my mind drifting back to it every now and then.