When I was in my twenties, I collected objects I found on the sidewalks of Los Angeles. An early find was a hand-written letter from a mother to her incarcerated son explaining why she wouldn’t bail him out of jail. “I have the money,” she wrote. “But you need to learn a lesson. You need to save yourself.” I felt as if the note was intended for me.
On another occasion, I found a series of 35 mm film negatives depicting an old man with a young boy. The images reminded me of my grandfather whom I loved dearly. I enlarged the negatives and made them into greeting cards for family and friends. My grandfather mailed me back a card. On the inside he wrote, “Keep your heart pure and you’ll find your way.”