I've been unpacking this week. Squeezing the contents of boxes and bags into my new apartment.
couple of days ago, I was weary and sat down. One box lay empty on its
side on the table before me, except for some styrofoam peanuts, a
receipt or two, some curly shredded packing paper. I rested my head
leaning toward and slightly into the brown, cardboard box. The noise in
my ears went quiet. I'd entered a mysterious place. Light leaked into
the box in a thin line where the two flaps on the bottom were taped but
did not quite meet. It was like a high window in a large dim room. The
pink and white and pale green peanuts, wavy and crinkled, took on faces
of light and shadow. Some were like people, and some like birds and dogs
and other animals. The dangling strands of paper and crumpled tape
created a landscape.
My cell phone was near and I spent a couple
of minutes photographing this mysterious little world. Then, I turned
the box to face a window in the apartment where the sunlight was shining
and took a photo. The interior of the box was now well lit, and the
strange little world disappeared.