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The poetry of our lives is woven through a tapestry of inter-connectedness with all those who are in our lives and all those who have gone before us. A life, once lived, carries its own meaning - but in living our lives we unavoidably touch and are touched by others. Many of our most essential parts are hidden by us below the surface of everyday life. As children, parts are buried in order to survive. As adults, these doors we carefully bolted back then - often have unknown keys - hidden in places long forgotten. Cloaked as symbols, they can reawaken a flood of emotion when encountered.

In these letters my grandfather left behind, ho also left clues, clues about love and passion and humor and longing. He started every letter with “Sweetheart”, put stamps on the envelopes upside-down and was filled with impatience.

The familiarity I found was what was unexpected, and wonderful. In the seventy years since the letters were written, much has changed, as the medium chosen for this show underlines - but what is essential, it seems, has not changed a bit.
Sunday. ( a hell of a day )The dead have been speaking to methat damn typewritershe danced barefootyour desire to beHot dog!MetroParis is jazzSweetheart

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