theres probably wisdom cautioning others not to look back

                                                                  if theyre not fit

Thomas Wolfe  You Can’t Go Home Again

                                             “You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood. . . back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame . . . back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting, but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.”

hed challenge Wolfes premise that memory is an escape

an occasion yesterday

                        something he hadnt recalled in years flashed across his mind  it was placed there by music he had a soundtrack Dire Straits  In the Gallery  Mark  a buddy  introduced him to the album

                                                                                                 they were mighty highhad finished watching the North Stars on a muted black and white televisionlistened to the commentary on the radio  thats the way Marko liked it  he preferred Marko to Mark  likewise he knew another cat who took to a nickname rather than George  spell it Georg or say it Georges he said he might have bought in  but not George  he looked in a mirror and a George didnt look back at him   Ofcourse not Sparky   Fuck you.   Doncare for Sparky either   Fuck you.   he did not have an elaborate vocabulary

throwing cautions to the wind looking back he Googled Marko  found his obituary

                                                                                    he died November 25, 2019

which piqued him somberly

                             he lookedup another Minnesota carpenter buddy  Brian  he died October 30, 2019  at least his obit said he died unexpectedly

                                     unexpectedly  from how he knew Brianremembered him made a mighty wide fucking lane

unexpectedly then reminded him of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.  he read him incessantly throughout the years buying his book as he was published

                    it was reported he diedresult of brain injury incurred several weeks prior from a fall at his brownstone home

      reading thatknowing of Vonneguts recurring bouts of depression he read the article . . . a fall out of his brownstone home  jumped head first  latent   like the phenomenal artist photographer Francesca Woodmanbut a babe  apparently usedupexhausted at 22

yesterday was a day of unexpected informed death

was he upset he looked backharkened by memory then memoriesconfluence of memories

                                                                                             NO.

not looking back

not remembering

would deny that they lived

we aint dead until no one remembers us

1937,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  29  9. 21

1522,  Thursday,  30  9. 21

https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-reevaluating-francesca-woodman-early-death-haunts-groundbreaking-images

Dire Straits  Where Do You Think You’re Going  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d59wsd9JsuA