I work in the attic of our house. My husband Seth works in the basement. While Otto naps in the middle of our house, this is what our separate but simultaneous working might sound like. listen
Every day Otto asks me a thousand times what things are. He knows now that everything has a name, but not that the names stay the same. He points at an object several times with the same quizzical/hopeful expression each time. In order to be the patient parent I pretend to be, I imagine my…
Our neighbours have two dogs. Three times in recent weeks I have found these little fallen moons in our yard.
I am trying to imagine all the things that this hand-drawn sign might once have said, as well as the reason that two small torn pieces of it ended up on the ground in a back alley in Pittsburgh.
Leftovers from the Typewriter Drawings, found as I clear up my desk.