Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Means to An End

"It wasn’t my friends gathered around the dining table, and if it had been, the stories I shared would’ve been far more graphic and detailed, sprinkled with offensive language and perhaps even gestures, and more contemporary in nature. But these were people who knew nothing of me other than my connection to the host. So the story was told, and since I hate telling it, I made it ever duller than even I usually find it. My last words, “And so that’s how I ended up… here” hit a wall of such powerful silence that the colors in the room seemed to gray and the eyes of my audience stared too long, as if struggling to see the purpose of my speaking." - from Untitled Until I Think of Something Clever
Echoes of the Extra Stencil...