But I had to photograph my Torn Collage with the house. I had my husband come along: both to help me set up, and for company. The curtain was blowing wildly when we arrived. We took the pieces of my collage out of the car and began setting up. I never know why no one stops to ask what the heck I'm doing, but even a pedestrian seemed unconcerned. Anyway, I was more nervous about the spirit. But once the collage was set up the curtain went still. Somehow the spirit seemed mollified, like it knew someone cared, had paid attention, and given the the seemingly forgotten place value, mourned its loss along with whoever it was, or is.
I drive by this place every day. The formerly flailing curtain remains still. I'm happy to think anybody recognized my tribute - especially if it's the one who really counts.
I think I wil go back.
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