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In this same glass case , I once saw an extraordinary photograph that had never been there before .
A strong fine man of about forty . Bald and strong with a small beard . He was sitting at an easel , and the photo was taken through a mirror .
I walk into that house and always look at that glass case . That photo shook my entrails , because I felt sexually attracted to that man . This sounds like a separate feeling , but it is not . The man in the photo taken forty years ago looks like the man I love .
I am married to a man who does not know who his father is .
That photograph then disappeared from the glass case . The glass case then explored the idea of me being excluded from my own wedding . The glass case no doubt explores more than I think I know .
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