disassemble

Its strange the relationship we have to our objects. I’m having the feeling that I need to take pictures of how everything looks, before I disassemble it. Just so I wont forget that it made sense for them to be this way, in this order, before they get rearranged in their new space. Like the Mary that sits above my bed, next to Maricel’s organ, my radio and my tea mug. It’s imperative that, that never changes. But it not like I am going to forget but just in case it must exist in a photograph so I can refer to it right now like that