One day I crossed the ocean and left everything behind, forever. My house, my friends, my toys. I left not knowing what my destination was going to be. I didn’t care. I just wanted to leave and not to arrive necessarily. Didn’t bring anything with me, no pictures, no amulet, and no precious gift from my childhood. Nothing at all. Everything was left behind.
As I grow old, my memory fades not because of my age, after all I’m only 41 but because of not having any reference from my past. No old pictures to look at, no driving by my old house or neighborhood, no friends to share stories with, no little gift from my parents.
These pictures represent a broken interpretation of my past now buried under bills, snow, uptightness, corduroy pants and a strong desire every now and then to go back.
Cesar Augusto 