Back in the fall of 2007 I took a class called Writing the Self & Others. I re-discovered a piece that I wrote for that class, final submission. I called it "I Am My Thoughts (pieces of me)," and wrote this little ditty for the cover:
shards of stained gless
small and white
make many, me.
One of my best friends was a photo major, and I took him up to the glass department in our art school, and got him to take a bunch of pictures of colorful shards of glass that we found lying around in the coldworking lab. I got one of my neighbors who is always boasting about his photoshop skills to help me arrange these pictures of glass shards so that I could display most of the text of this work on the glass fragments. It gives the whole paper a disjointed sense of unity.
Here's the preface, of sorts:
To encompass the self in words is an infinite task. I make this small effort to represent myself with the knowledge that to do so ocmpletely is impossible. The self now is not the self of now. So I write of what I cannot fully know, what I will never complete. And in my pride I write a distorted picture of the me I want to be. I do not what to write of clothes or appearance, though I fear some mask-description may hide the deeper me. So I hope you don't mind if I make it my aim to express myself in stories and thoughts. These are the things I think about, and (if I may reminisce with Descartes) they make me who I am.
I may share more later, but maybe not.