March 26, 2016
Driving back from Rockford Library, skimming around the curves on Marengo Road, I thought about Ceremonies. It was late summer, 1974. A fair amount of material had piled up. I kept the pieces in the order I wrote them. There was no timeline to Ceremonies. There was no beginning, middle or end. You could arrange it any way you liked. I loved that. I drove south on Route 23 in my old Buick. Early evening light was fading. I let my mind wander through a story about failing to ask Valentine out.