There are so many ways to write about oneself.
Professional, focused on achievement, what has been done.
Or playful, contemplative, the color and texture of a person.
Which do you prefer? If I still had my resumé,
it would be tattered lace. More hole than matter.
So what matters to me more is pattern, rupture, symbol, structure.
What makes a person indelibly, imperfectly, who they are?
So many artists and poets have said that the eternal wellspring of anyone
can be found in childhood. For me: the view through the weave
of a basket that held me: the cold funk
of a ferny creek: the fine scraps of odd-shaped paper
my mother would bring home from the printshop for me to draw on.
The look of letters, holy, human. Rapture in ordinary objects.
No matter the happenstance, my life will be devoted to these things.
francesca preston