On November 16th, I did not go to meet my friend again.

This hateful thing was left on my door on MLK day. It was also left on the windshields of cars on my street, but someone removed them all shortly thereafter. I’m all for free speech, but I’m totally behind whoever removed them, guess that makes me a hypocrite. For some reason I felt the need to take this. Please get rid of it.

It’s funny, this little thing is so small, but it carries so much weight and history. I found this game piece (I’m not sure what game it’s from) when I was having intense feelings for a close friend of mine. “Ask your own question” seemed fitting for our relationship at the time. We were both in transitional phases and question marks were everywhere. We fell in love, but eventually the fear and unknowns ripped us apart as they usually rip me apart.

I can’t handle throwing these plastic clamshells away because I feel like I am killing the earth, so instead I store them in a dark cupboard where I can hide from them. Every time I open the cupboard I see them and want to get rid of them, but can’t handle throwing them away from my guilty conscious, and am too lazy to bring them home from work to recycle.

I used to be a photography major, and have had these rolls of film for at least 8 years. Obviously I can’t develop them. I have hung onto them for too long.

My birth name is Felicia. Felicia Marie Fenton. It’s a fine name, but growing up in the sticks of Colorado, no one knew how to say it properly, (Falischia or Falickeea) so when I was a teenager I asked my friends to call me Felicity. My mother gave me this bracelet after I had changed my name and said something like, “Felicia is your real name and you’ll always be Felicia to me.” I never mind when she or the rest of my family or childhood friends refer to me as Felicia, but she doesn’t like that anyone calls me Felicity. It’s a subtle battle we have had over the years, but one I’d like to end. I love you mom.

Where to begin. I’ve been at my job for 26 and a half years. It used to be fun but hasn’t been for a while. I let my job eat me alive and I need to get healthy. I realized the other day that the office I’ve been in these last few years is about 10 feet away from the first cubicle I sat in. So I’ve come full circle. One of the cards I received says “Retirement is when you stop living at work and begin working at living.” It is with this thought in mind that I’m releasing my job.

The reasons I’d like to destroy all copies of this CD are:

It represents the fall of what I feel had been a great thing… a strongly bonded group of late-adolescent best friend musicians that had been through so much together.  By the time this disc was recorded, the original members had moved across country, my brother had been kicked out of the band (by me), and real life ensued (meaning 9-5 or 3-12 jobs, girlfriends/spouses, rent/mortgages/ break-ups). For the band, this meant a slow but certain breakdown of leadership and vision. Add to that a talented outsider with his own very personal vision plus a misguided choice(should have been Larry!) in who produced/engineerd your record… and well, that’s disappointment.

Hello. My friend Meghan referred you to me, and so it is for that reason that I have come to you for help. This box of photographs has been haunting me for well over a year now and it’s time to let go. I had printed a bunch of these photos for a friend who asked me if I would, and added some of my own to the mix in hopes of brightening his spirits. Upon completion, I phoned the friend to ask if I could drop them off at his house and he replied that he didn’t want them. So I have been stuck with this gift ever since, moving the box from place to place in hopes that I may find a new home for it or find something to do with it or somewhere to show the photographs or maybe give it to the person it was intended for even though he doesn’t want it…

Anyway, I need to get rid of this because it’s driving me crazy. I think the best home for it would be to display the photographs in some sort of gallery setting, even if they are just thumbtacked to the wall. I feel like people need to see them. They can be donated or auctioned or whatever. I would prefer that they not be destroyed because of the time that was put into making them.

So I release to you a box of photographs by Molly Harrington and Robert LeBlanc, printed by Mahalawanda. Please enjoy them and do what you will.

My former employer gave me this set of keys. She was neurotic and had a very particular way of doing things. Loading the dishwasher, locking doors, starting her car. She had bi-polar disorder and quickly swung from high – happy states, to low – crazy states. She often threatened she would jump of the Fremont Bridge. I saved the keys as a memento of my time spent with her and secretly hoped that having them would keep her alive. I’d like to free myself of this responsibility and guilt.