I'm sorting and discarding decades of files. It amazes me how much paper we generated in the pre-Internet age. Boxes and boxes of clips and letters regarding my books Circle of Poison and The Bhopal Syndrome are biting the dust during this transition.
In the process, I am revisiting old thoughts and feelings about my work. In there too are files, clips and copies about/of Fusion, a magazine my kids published in Mill Valley when they were teenagers. Also, flyers for their "band jams" in Petaluma. That stuff, too, has to go.
As I "recycle" these materials, it is as if a whole lifetime is disappearing. But there is no alternative to letting it go.
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