Perhaps he is my Sylvie and I will remember him like dreams that come to me across different time periods and our relationship will evolve in my mind like a great French romantic novel, and maybe he will one day be forgotten. But oh how I’d love the chance just to talk with him one last time.

- Courage to Change, Al-Anon

I was talking to my friend Abigail about this piece. I have taken printmaking with Laura and artists books. She made the accordion book and her partner built the table. It was something I went to last year that I guess had a profound affect on me because I could see how beautiful these two women made each other. How they talked about adding to each other's life and art was inspiring. Its something I’ve dreamed of in my life and haven’t had the chance to experience but I have a feeling it’s coming.

I feared in my age it was too late for fate, that that dream was lost and that kind of love tossed. I’m still waiting to see if it’s you that it’ll be. You’ll never know til you know and I’m in way too deep.

Like love was a cavern so vast that no one ever could escape its grasp.

For love is the darkest weapon yet.

I want to live in a world where there are no definitions of socially acceptable No labels to define our cause or direction Our sexuality or none If we label we lose what exists right now We lose when we have to be something we cannot, to be someone we are not. I've played the game within the various labels assigned to me, Every human I know has one for me. And I lose every time. For all time. I fail undoubtedly to be something for anyone. No label can ever stay on me.

I remember walking the streets listening to an iPod mini first generation. It was pink. I had a serious obsession with pink (the color) at that age. I would walk the brownstone lined streets imagining my future life. Knowing one day I'd be here, be home. Back now, as Brooklyn has expanded its walks and walls and pushed its limits of real estate. The secret place I once used to escape, known. But the feeling as I pass the brick edifices and the rumbling subway beneath my feet, is the same. Home at last. For a brief few days at least, this is the place where I found myself. Where I became strong, where I became inspired, where I got lost. The cool wind on my face. The long subway rides to the upper west side. The pretty lights and bare trees. Mostly it's the dreams, all the dreams I dreamed alone walking the streets in a city that never sleeps. How full I felt? How lonely? How anything was possible? Is it possible to find that again to feel that? When... I miss you. Wake up fate. With muffled screams. What are the odds... The probability unlikely to meet you on the court street platform. To see you just as the train doors close for the one brief moment before we transform to strangers again. To look you in the eye, to feel that warmth one more time. I know I know. Lost crazy listless rhymes. Schemes and lies. I'm not any of those things. I'm just free. My heart and mind feel and think and dream and wish. I mean it. I mean it so much. I'll forget. I'll keep trying to forget.