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Lumen Prints by John Fobes: Apple, Onion, Pear, and Japaleño Pepper.
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Rant
Hello friend, it's been awhile.
Truthfully, honestly, I cannot remember when I wrote to you last. I have become quite fond of keeping my thoughts tucked away. Tucked away in this box, sturdy and lovely, in the corner of it all. I told myself to feel, see, and put it away. Keep it away.
I could always sense the thing though. It called to me from time to time. Calling me to face the truths that I only vaguely acknowledged before stuffing it all into this beautiful, frightening, box.
In this moment the box is cracking, bending, warping. In this moment I am so full of grief that there is no possible way for my box, my body, to hold it all.
It's been awhile, but I'd like to write to you more. It's been awhile, and I don't want to ignore the pull anymore.
Sincerely, your friend.
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Inna Altunashvili (Russian), Unlimited Internet, 2018, Oil on canvas
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How the absence of someone else feels like the absence of myself
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Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry featured in The Diary of Anaïs Nin Volume 1 1931-1934
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So much time has gone by, I didn’t know how much I would change
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“Frightening and splendid, I desired her as I’d never desired a woman before, I’d never known that such desire existed, it was tearing me apart,”
— Christa Wolf, tr. by John Cullen, from “Medea,” originally published c. 1996
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Loggia in Ravello, 1890, and Roses, 1893, by Peder Severin Krøyer (1851-1909)
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