The great thing about moving is that you unearth the strangest things. Yesterday I found “the big giant head”; the big giant head was made when I was twenty, it was part of a sculpture I made with this woman jumping out of a mirror and I also used it on some talk I gave about image and society. The giant head is mine, literally. It’s an image of my head at 20 and I remember at the time being incredibly proud of it. I also remember my roommates and I placing BH in various places like the hood of a car, or under a friend’s pillow. The big head has history and now b/c I’ve had it for this long I do not know if I can throw it away. When I am old my children will clean out my closets full of scraps of poems, paint and yes most likely, the big head.