Postcard #4

The fifties: what will I say?

What will I say?

This is me. Crying.

This is a kids’ birthday party.

This is a kids’ birthday party in the 1950s.

This is a kids’ birthday party in suburbia in the 1950s.

This is a kids’ birthday party in a Detroit suburb in the 1950s.

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Or (as I once quipped): “I told you there was something upsetting about suburbia!”

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The statement we rarely make is: This is a photograph.

Or:

Hello. This is me. Holding this print in my hand. Scanning it. Reproducing it. Pasting it in. Saying things about it.

Or:

This photograph has a history. A technological history. A personal history. A social history.

Or:

Hello. It’s me again. I am making archives.

Or:

I am lost. In a good way.