Most people don’t pay much attention to the litter on the street, but that’s where I find a lot of inspiration. At least some fodder for imaginative yarns and make-believe stories. We’ve all seen the errant hair extension or sock, and the other day I found this echo of a shoe in downtown Albany. What is the story behind it? Where did it come from and how did it happen to be in such a state of degradation? What its abandonment intentional or accidental? Ghost items bring up all sorts of deep questions – that’s part of why they fascinate me so much.
As for this shoe skeleton, the merest hint of its structure whispering of pedestrian tales and travails, I wonder at its origin. I’d like to think it was the result of excessive decadence and debauchery, the proof of an evening of glamorous impiety. Yet I fear (desire?) a more sordid and sad tale of hard-won dilapidation. Some sort of fight, some sort of drama – something to make it worthwhile. Something that would have made the life of a shoe matter. Something to mark its expiration with a memory.
So little lasts… least of all a forgotten shoe, no matter how many tales it has to tell.
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