Inspiration
Everything I touched spat out its memories to me. I kept some. These few objects here on the table. Each is imbued with a story that is not really a story, just a flash, a moment dense with emotion.
I collected them to make them a part of a new life. If I was to be a man, then I must have memories of manhood to inform me. I needed sign posts, I needed answers. They are like a mythology within whose bounds the character of a man is inspired. I will be that man.
A round piece of metal. A handful of nails in a glass jar. A thick wire, that has carried much electricity. A broken ring. A marble. The words on thin wood. The little shapes and pictures that are the key to the signs. The sign that reads "No campfires." With the bear in the hat.
I have a great affinity for bears. They are always searching, good spirited hulks, scenting life where it leaps from the element, finding treasure on brutal raids. Victims of their bellies, cruel at times, afraid of nothing.
I also keep these fragments of bone and bark, a dead beetle. These are ancient things I can't forget no matter how I try.
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