The Past Is Everywhere: Looking At Us. Noticing.

When I first discovered these bleachers, they had already outlived any traditional sense of how bleachers should be used. They were in the middle of a field, facing nothing, and surrounded by a new running path that emerges from the woods on one side and a graffiti laden overpass on the other side. By the time I saw the bleachers, I was already exhausted from my run, and I imagined ghosts as Old as the bleachers themselves. Sitting there, cheering me on. Encouraging me to finish the run. It's my own personal cloud of witnesses that I invoked every time I ran that route until this year when the beautifully dilapidated bleachers disappeared.

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