Everything costs money. And if it doesn’t, it costs time. And if it doesn’t, then it costs blood. And if it doesn’t, then it costs your soul or your children’s souls, or your children’s children’s souls. And who knows if there are any souls left after that. What’s worth the price today or tomorrow, your body or your mind? My back hurts from building this furniture. Then I’m going to paint it a beautiful, dreamy blue not really grey, not totally blue one of those muddy colors

The ticking of a clock sounds like small gasps like when a parent sees their child turn around, all dressed, ready for the ball. But what does it feel like the other way around? When a child watches her mother once a goddess, glowing gold grow dusty as time begin to bury her. Photographs capture moments that no longer belong to us, and yet, they're how we remember who we were. The one standing in front of me now is newer, stranger and each memory made fills our lungs with the