There’s not a lot you can say about why the place becomes a part of you. You have to feel your way into it. And it has to feel its way into you. Then, there’s a commodity of exchange that harbors no economic riches other than intangibles. No stock, no goods. When I found it, I noticed the people around me. We all came to the place lacking a focused knowledge of what it had been, or what it was when we got there. And that made it more ethereal as it ballooned outward in heat indexes and acreages of swamp loss. Everything wore a cover of sleep. And in that sleep were the shadows of every version of that place and all of us tried to slip underneath of them from time to time, recreating stories we overheard strangers talking about.
Light – Michael Andrepont
Words – Hank Cherry
