This isn't just a chair. It is an empty chair inside an old house. An old house where you used to live. And suddenly you are wearing a blue dress, barefoot in your neighbor's yard. And there is your friend trying to catch a butterfly. You don't even know what year that was. You didn't know this then, but on that street where the old house stood, some marvel took place. God had roots and stems; god was light and shadow. Even your heart had a voice. But here you are, staring at this chair, remembering a time in the past, in a place far away. It is evening in Los Angeles, a city you have lived in for many years and yet you still feel like a stranger here. Somehow you often find yourself lost and then you find yourself again in some vague memory, some nostalgia, some empty chair that seems to say to you, "Remember this time, remember when ..."