My Name Is Salmon, Like The Fish;

And There She Was, Alone And Walking Out In The Cornfield While Everyone Else I Cared For Sat Together In One Room. She Would Always Feel Me And Think Of Me. I Could See That, But There Was No Longer Anything I Could Do. Ruth Had Been A Girl Haunted And Now She Would Be A Woman Haunted. First By Accident And Now By Choice. All Of It, The Story Of My Life And Death, Was Hers If She Chose Tot Ell It, Even To One Person At A Time.

Learn A Language Of Another Country And Then You Can Go To That Country: A Place Where The Problems Of Your Family Will Not Follow. A Language They Do Not Speak.

I Had Rescued The Moment By Using My Camera And In That Way Had Found How To Stop Time And Hold It. No One Could Take That Image Away From Me Because I Owned It.

We Have This Desire For Everything To Be Explained To Us. But If You Go Through Your Daily Actions, Very Little Ends Up Having A Written-down Explanation For Why Things Happen, Or Why People Do Specific Things. So It Made Sense To Me To Reflect The Human Condition That Not Every Action Has An Explanation. We Act, And Then Later Maybe Come To An Understanding About It, Or Maybe Not.

I Loved The Way The Burned-out Flashcubes Of The Kodak Instamatic Marked A Moment That Had Passed, One That Would Now Be Gone Forever Except For A Picture.