“You launch your voice, it dies away in the vault.”
Last Monday I saw another cement heart in the rain while waiting for my mother to return the rental car. My initials were inside of it. It felt like Sunday all day as I stood in front of that street heart and felt outside of it.
- Picnic at Hanging Rock, 1975
Every Orange is a possible loss. Every loss is possibly orange, not just blue.
Please don’t take my orange away.
-Raising Arizona, 1987
Your return is no longer in my power.