These are some of my drawings for a story about someone who moving all the time… Strange new places, people, and trying to find consistency and comfort in a new environment. If you are someone who has moved around a lot, you know that places and faces start to blend together and the sentence of your life keeps getting cut off in the middle, before you were finished writing it. I have some stories but they don’t fit in with the rest of the book, and the chapters are too short. The narrator of this story is confused and doesn’t know if the story has any meaning, and so she does not know if she should continue writing a story that no one should read. If you move around all the time but never get used to it you eventually end up with an identity that is not tied to any one place and you are a kind of permanent stranger. All of the different places and lives I have led line up together and look at me, and I see that they are my reflection but I can’t believe my eyes.

EHT 6/27/10