Wednesday, April 13, 2011

writing down our names

Though it was once so abundantly known and loved that the owner didn't even entertain the necessity of writing it's name on these photographs, now this pup exists only within the framework of what we may ascertain from their compositions. This dog came into with the Great Depression, born in roughly 1928, where it lived to be an old dog (at least 11) with a young female child companion in a household with lush foliage and enough money to afford a camera, and as I said before was abundantly known. I work at an elementary school where reminding kids to write their names on things take up about half of my classroom time. I guess one's name to a child seems so permanent and limitless that it doesn't really seem a possibility that without the letters as witness, the identity of their label can waver, dissipate and float away.

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