I bought a used copy of Walker Evans' American Photographs. I love used books. I like my books to feel read(probably because I might never get around to reading them). I like the fraying of the corners, the yellowing of the pages, the shelf-wear. I like the smell of age from the paper. I like the folding of the pages once used as book-markers. But most of all, I love the secrets. They're all secrets. Scratches, doodles, underlines. Names, dates, wishes. Scars, bookmarks, photographs.
I wonder about Christmas '95.
and Tony too.
I wonder about the photograph on page eleven.
or photographs, perhaps.
I wonder about Hilde.
I wonder...