Influence.

Fairmount Park, Riverside California.

   Fall 2011 found me here, with a backpack and food, water and a camera -side of this lake, alone and reading, reading this excerpt.  I would drive about 20 miles, to watch the sun go down here, with these words, and this experience; reading over and over:

Tom:  I didn't go to the moon, I went much further -for time is the longest distance between two places -Not long after that, I was fired for writing a poem on the lid of a shoebox.  I left Saint Louis.  I descended the steps of this fire escape for the last time, and followed from then on -in my father's footsteps, attempting to find in motion what was lost in space -I traveled around a great deal.  The cities swept about me like dead leaves, leaves that were brightly colored but torn away from the branches.  I would have stopped, but I was pursued by something.  It always came upon me unawares, taking me altogether by surprise.  Perhaps it was a familiar bit of music.  Perhaps it was only a piece of transparent glass.  -Perhaps I am walking along a street at night, in some strange city, before I have found companions.  I pass the lighted window of a shop where perfume is sold.  The window is filled with pieces of colored glass, tiny transparent bottles in delicate colors, like bits of a shattered rainbow.  Then (all at once) my sister touches my shoulder.  I turn around and look into her eyes... Oh, Laura, Laura, I tried to leave you behind me, but I am more faithful than I intended to be!  I reach for a cigarette, I cross the street, I run into the movies or a bar, I buy a drink, I speak to the nearest stranger...Anything that blow your candles out! (Laura bends over the candles.) -for nowadays the world is lit by lightning!  Blow out your candles Laura-and so goodbye. . . . 


(She blows the canldes out.) 
   (The scene dissolves)      


Tom's speech at the end of this play...