What I thought was stillnesswas not stillness. What else woulda tall girl love but hills to stand onand look out from? Why shouldn’t it have begunin Lincoln Park, straddling the cannon, orin Long View Park, straddling the bronze lion,or in my first true place, the 38th Street cemetery?What did I know, pinching the best flowers fromdead bouquets, having my first kiss? I thought my mind wasmade of what I liked to see, and why not endlessly pretendto be on camera? After marriage, I watched my husbandrun uphill through head-high corn to see me. Who wouldn’tmistake that happiness for power since it seemed there wasa stillness in it that must be what the powerful feelwhen what they want moves closer. Who would have thoughtthat moving to the mountains with my darlingand my broken back and our beautiful tall son would show meso clearly and so soon how long I was terrified?
—Kathleen Peirce, “Height”Photography Credit Rinko Kawauchi

What I thought was stillness
was not stillness. What else would
a tall girl love but hills to stand on
and look out from? Why shouldn’t it have begun
in Lincoln Park, straddling the cannon, or
in Long View Park, straddling the bronze lion,
or in my first true place, the 38th Street cemetery?
What did I know, pinching the best flowers from
dead bouquets, having my first kiss? I thought my mind was
made of what I liked to see, and why not endlessly pretend
to be on camera? After marriage, I watched my husband
run uphill through head-high corn to see me. Who wouldn’t
mistake that happiness for power since it seemed there was
a stillness in it that must be what the powerful feel
when what they want moves closer. Who would have thought
that moving to the mountains with my darling
and my broken back and our beautiful tall son would show me
so clearly and so soon how long I was terrified?

Kathleen Peirce, “Height”
Photography Credit
Rinko Kawauchi

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    she does, i had her for workshop