i used to have a dog and i gave him away. i’m not a good person.
when christian marclay’s 24-hour folly, the clock, was first shown in the city, i thought i could do the undoable—watch the entire thing in one sitting. it was just lost on me, its impossibility as an act of watching is its very meaning as a work of art. i only lasted for two hours.
that’s why i’m always confused—and i am not being lazy about the choice of this word—when someone, something, like joey—for that was his name—comes around my life.
years after i gave him up, i was in a car with joey’s foster mom. she forgot something and had to get back to her house. there is just no forgetting the sound of him scratching from the inside the garage door.