Can You See Me? All

Historical Fact: People Stopped Being People In 1913. That Was The Year Henry Ford Put His Cars On Rollers And Made His Workers Adopt The Speed Of The Assembly Line. At First, Workers Rebelled. They Quit In Droves, Unable To Accustom Their Bodies To The New Pace Of The Age. Since Then, However, The Adaptation Has Been Passed Down: We've All Inherited It To Some Degree, So That We Plug Right Into Joy-sticks And Remotes, To Repetitive Motions Of A Hundred Kinds.

But In The End It Wasn't Up To Me. The Bigs Things Never Are. Birth, I Mean, And Death. And Love. And What Love Bequeaths To Us Before We're Born.

What I Do When I Create A Character Is Put In Details From All The People I Know Who Might Be Like That Person, And Then Put In A Huge Amount Of Myself.

And In Some Of The Houses, People Were Getting Old And Sick And Were Dying, Leaving Others To Grieve. It Was Happening All The Time, Unnoticed, And It Was The Thing That Really Mattered. What Really Mattered In Life, What Gave It Weight, Was Death.

They Had Killed Themselves Over Our Dying Forests, Over Manatees Maimed By Propellers As They Surfaced To Drink From Garden Hoses; They Had Killed Themselves At The Sight Of Used Tires Stacked Higher Than The Pyramids; They Had Killed Themselves Over The Failure To Find A Love None Of Us Could Ever Be. In The End, The Tortures Tearing The Lisbon Girls Pointed To A Simple Reasoned Refusal To Accept The World As It Was Handed Down To Them, So Full Of Flaws.