I had to reframe everything. I had to ‘unframe’ everything. Frames are dumb. The biggest thing I had to take out of its pretty little ridiculous frame was the portrait of me as a writer. I had to fold that one up and jam it between two books on the shelf. I didn’t throw it into the shoe box where I kept pay stubs from the temp agencies. I didn’t jam it into the shoe box where I kept all my overdue bills. No, I jammed the folded up phoney picture of me as a writer between two books on the shelf, I jammed it there, and the sun don’t shine there.
Sometimes it falls out when I pull a book down or when I clean or reorganize.