LEFT These pieces of wood lived in my truck bed for a couple of months. I slept next to them every night and moved them around to make space for other things, constantly wondering when the hell I was going to draw some lines and get them out of my space. I became frustrated with them. Eventually, I drove them to Montana when it was getting cold. They lay on the floor of my small apartment through a scary transition. They showed up when I couldn’t. THE FLYFISH JOURNAL 089
The Flyfish Journal Volume 13, Issue 2: Page 89
