Upkeep

My parents did not like being photographed. I do not have many pictures of them, nor did they leave things behind. This I seek to reconcile. Visually using variations of light and repetition of themes I am trying to arrange a song with them in mind.

When I was twenty, I broke my neck in a car crash and afterwards was confined to bed for almost a year during which time I read a lot. There were two big windows on the left side of the room that formed rectangles of light on the wall directly across from the windows. While reading, I was always aware of the floating passing ness of these rectangles of light. The room I was in was almost empty as I did not have my stuff with me in that room. The quiet and the light and the story that I was reading was what I had. The most time I spent with my parents in my adult life was during that time when they visited me in the hospital. My father was a scientist. Whenever there was a lunar event he would sit outside suspended in a lawn chair watching through the night. Afterwards there was a rare aura of happiness around him. My mother was a painter and outside of her paintings had a dislike for material things. She died in an empty room with two windows on the left side of her bed in summertime, when it takes hours for the sun to set, during which time I sat by her bedside. My parents were both refugees who had suffered a lot but had poetic sensibilities which I have inherited from them.