Curly-leaved kale
The poetry of hands, 28

Memory is like

Patterns
A bit of snow outlines out the patterns / New Jersey / January 2009

“When I look back I know that, in spite of my desire to reveal the truth about myself, I am adjusting and altering the meaning of this history: memory is like the puppet master who makes the marionette move a little differently every time he takes up the strings. What I am now is not the way I shall see myself 10 or 20 years from now, and if I am foolish enough to try and write another story of my life, it will not be the same as this.”

~ an excerpt from The Grotto by Coral Lansbury

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