This is my first collage. I had originally intended to cut it up into a jigsaw puzzle, but couldn't bear to do it once I had the thing finished.

The idea was to make this part of a letter to Susannah, but not only was I reluctant to cut it up, but I couldn't seem to part with it, either. If Susannah wants to see it, she can come to my house.

The top of this piece features older images (Abraham Lincoln, Satchel Paige et al) while more contemporary figures are ar the bottom of the frame. As I go farther back in time, I have used a more opaque finish, and even sanded off some of the images.

Fire is juxtaposed with forget-me-nots in opposition; the more memory is burned away, the fewer forget-me nots there are.

Although some of the work (forget-me-nots, flame, masks, coins) is in color, all of the images of people are black and white, with one exception. Almost halfway up the left side of the frame there is a small color picture of a man. He is partly obscured by a black and white picture of his body being recovered and the flames at his feet.

The background of this work is made of all kinds of tickets: boarding passes, parking passes, lift tickets, tickets to games, concerts and museums. There's even a discharge sheet from a hospital.

The door in the center section is cut entirely from photographs of doors around northern and central Vermont.

This piece is meant to be descriptive of my experience in a program I won't name. It's for Elaine and all the Usual Suspects, and if you ever see it on a wall, you'll know you're there.

I'm captivated by the Blue Seal Feeds building in Richmond, Vermont. This piece is made entirely of manipulated images of a photograph I took in the summer of 1998.

This is my portrait of JoAnn. I love her the way a drowning man loves the rope that holds the life ring; it's not the thing that saves you, but it's important to the process.

In the lower right corner is an old black and white photograph of people swimming. I know nothing about this picture other than it was taken in 1927 at someplace called Mt. Washburn by my grandfather. The way I see it, the people swimming are keeping their heads above water.

I worry about the additional stress I bring to JoAnn's life; she is not required to bring so much of her own energy to the task of keeping me going, and sometimes I light a red candle for her and her family in a sort of prayer that they will find strength, health, and happiness.