NYC Journal 58, and empathy
Hey there again, so there’s a hope that you’d know this, but only seeing these online I’m not so sure, so I want you to, I want to make jarringly clear to you, the imperativeness to know this: that each of these people is an extension of me, and I of them. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, voyeuristic, or parodic, or deriding in these, no shell of sarcasm or hyperbole. No, they are offered with incredible tenderness…unimaginable really. Do you see this? Or at least can you believe this? For all that goes into them, I still worry it is lost b/c of stunted capabilities, on my part of course, not yours, b/c of my limited reach. Often it feels like a scream-whisper on a windy day, that for all the effort and intent dissipates to bad-noise and then nothing before the count of one-Mississi… Imagine near-tears near my eyes when I work one these, as it’s something much like that.
Apologies for authorial trespassing and arm twisting.
Here you go: