behave

lost things

During the deep snow of December I became conscious of lost gloves sprinkled about the place. Now I'm noticing lost and discarded items everywhere and have begun to photograph them. The significance of this is just dawning on me at a time when I must admit to a feeling of lostness myself. The heady mixture of the close of one year and the beginning of another, returning to a city that is not yet home and the approach of a significant birthday has resulted in a dose of existential angst that is most unwelcome and most familiar. So as I process my memories and thoughts I am in league with lost things.