Riverside Drive at 83rd St., New York, 1914 Paul Strand
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Bareback Riders, 1886 W.H. Brown
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Unable to sleep, I spent the whole night seeing her figure all by itself And seeing it always in ways different from when I see her in person. I fashion thoughts from my memory of how she is when she talks to me, And in each thought she's a variation on her likeness. To love is to think. And from thinking of her so much, I almost forget to feel. I don't really know what I want, even from her, and she's all I think of. My distraction is as large as life. When I feel like being with her, I almost prefer not being with her, So as not to have to leave her afterwards. And I prefer thinking about her, because I'm a little afraid of her as she really is. I don't really know what I want, and I don't even want to know what I want. All I want is to think her. I don't ask anything of anyone, not even of her, except to let me think.