And then I made some collage, more collages,
where I would grab photos.
And initially, I actually glued them on,
and then I thought that didn't seem right.
So I kind of cut them out and then let
them sort of alight on the page, and then
I started kind of folding them a little bit,
so there are little creases on there.
But I'll read you this one if I could find the page.
I didn't mark my pages because I was too busy talking to Ander
and did not prepare appropriately, distracted,
and having a nice time, and I can't--
we're talking about all sorts of things
actually because he had a reading last night,
and a movie viewing, Predator, and we
were talking about how I hadn't actually seen that before, so--
OK.
I still haven't found it.
Let's see paper, slips, 83, let's try that.
I think that's probably it.
OK.
So this picture in the middle, I'm guessing
is my mother's mother's mother, so it's my great grandmother.
And the person right above her looks a lot like my mom,
and then the other people I think are siblings.
There could be one or two missing.
I couldn't tell you how many siblings
she had, but one, two, three-- one, two, three, four, five.
They're probably two more.
Anyway, I wrote a poem.
Once you had to stand behind your grandmother who
left a country, each of your feet
lifted off the land onto the boat like nightingales.
I imagine the night sky, you below deck,
light coming from two moons, but only half of your face lit up.
You stood still as the moons rearranged themselves.
During the switch, language was lost at sea.
When language belongs to no one, a door opens.