Jacob Lawrence, "The Lovers," 1946
Jacob Lawrence, The Lovers (1946)
Can a Game Be Literature?

Mark's Pages

She made me more visual. Hues and colors, relationships between shapes, clothes on strangers' backs. I bought my first good camera to pursue those senses. Photos of her in orange, pink or chartreuse bowling shirts against a vibrant red wall.

The dialectics of gifts and their drawbacks. She could rapidly perceive astonishing visual detail. But she saw only surfaces, and ultimately, she believed only surfaces were real.

What did she see when she looked at me?