i don't know why i'm writing this. but i am.

A couple of months ago, I read this thing Nan Goldin wrote,

if you don't know who she is, she's a photographer, and she's amazing.

She said that she used to think if she took enough pictures of people she loved, she'd have them forever.

One of the thoughts that crossed my mind yesterday, in the car up to see my Nan,

on one of the silent moments we shared,

was what Nan Goldin had said.

And how I have one or two photos of my Grandad.

Already he was dissapearing from my memory.

I was trying to remember his height,

the exact dimensions of his face,

I wished I could draw,

Re-construct him exactly.

I wished I could have gone back, to take some photos of him,

to preserve my memory of him perfectly.


Last night,

I took his jacket out of my wardrobe to look at it,

I can't wear it.

It isn't mine.

It still belongs to him.

I wanted to take photos of it,

As if doing so, would be taking photos of him.

The lighting was wrong,

There were no angles,

This isn't one of your photography projects

my mind screamed

This is REAL,

you just want to see it through a camera so you can distance yourself from it,

but it happened.


I hate that, even at a time like this, my brain won't let me be stupid.

It's still racing with thoughts that don't help.

I keep thinking about the situation from a quantum physician's point of view,

because I haven't seen him dead, it's hard for me to really believe it.

It's hard for me to not believe he's just somewhere else,

Or in many different places at once.

Quantum Physics says that if you can't observe a persons whereabouts,

instead of assuming where they are,

they can be in many different places at once,

and you can only know they are in one place,

when you see them.

We turned up too late yesterday.

His body had already gone.

He's having an autopsy tomorrow.

There will be no open casket.


Is this ever going to feel real?