I say that I make things; poems, essays, collages. I'm not sure that's true. Words, sentence, and paper scraps. None of it is mine. None of it belongs to me. It's found objects. Found things. Things that become a piece of art or writing. When it’s done, it makes sense to put it back where I found it. To give it back to the world. A gift to anyone else looking closely, hoping to find something.
