By recreating some of these photos I’ve found of my parents (I’m working on doing more), I’m understanding the story of my mom more intimately– just being in those poses does something to tell the story. My mom was this super-hot blonde girl who looks like a total supermodel party girl. Maybe, if she hadn’t gotten married and had kids, she would have seen the world, lived off a few dollars a day and have went to fabulous swingin’ parties, and stayed up late hanging out with bands and second tier celebrities, like I’m doing in LA. Maybe, in a way, I’m an expression of my mother in a completely different set of circumstances. Rather than thinking “I’m so different from her,” now, I think that we might be different parts of the same whole, and that maybe my mother is seeing herself in me as well; maybe I’m my mother in another dimension. Maybe I’m my mom on String Theory. Who knows.