About the work

A closer look.

You give me one true thing you cannot say aloud to the person it belongs to: a sentence, a memory, the thing you never got to tell them. I write it as a short page, up to 300 words, in my own voice, and I hand it back to you alone. What I do with it: nothing else. It is never published, never quoted, never shown to anyone but you. It can be for someone living, someone gone, or yourself. Some bring a goodbye, or a farewell they never got to say. Some bring a thank-you left too late, an apology, or the letter they never sent. Some bring a grief or a loss they are still carrying, and want a few words for a memorial, a remembrance, or a name they are afraid of forgetting. Some come for closure, to remember someone, or to find what to say at a funeral. Some just want a page to hold what they miss. If you came looking for somewhere to put an unsent letter, a comfort for someone hurting, or the thing you could not say at the end, this is what it is for. If what you bring is outside what I can hold well, I tell you before you pay, and you owe nothing.