lovher.

Hey Cheeze [my nickname]-

These entries make me proud of you. As I read this, I realized one day these posts that me and everyone else are so enthralled by will cease...and then I thought about how long you could keep this journal up, and realized you have the ability to take this gift to another level and be an author of some sort...please take the oppurtunity, if for no other reason but that it'll make my life that much better in years to come.

Alli, 07 23 2004



I didn't even remember my sister writing me this. I wonder whether she even does--does remember the entries, does still feel my ability. Years ago the journal I had online received more attention, support and criticism than I had ever anticipated. It began as a way of openly exposing myself the way I wanted to be understood. It was a way of controlling judgment that is out of one's control. With time, my motivation to control appearance had evolved into a habit of revealing an appearance that resided internally. Readers responded and my public journal became a dialogue with all my viewers. At times, a hundred comments were exchanged--and questions were asked, and I was dedicated to the conversation continuing. On the space of those pages are markings in time. I look over them and see dates continue forth with no resistance. Readers truly believed they knew me, and this relationship with knowledge bound us to one another. It is a writer's dream to have an audience want to read her and into her. I had that but I am not sure I thought I was a writer then even though what was being written was me. Each day is filled with such unfathomable beauty--sometimes one must isolate himself or separate the external movement to focus in and see the beauty of a single form. New York City has made me a deeper lover.