for a self returning 
mostly memory

An unsent postcard, rediscovered in a book of poems, meticulously recreated as a digital environment. The impossibility of extending a two-dimensional image into three dimensions, the missing perspectives, visual glitches, the forensic guesswork making sense of out-of-focus background details. A flawed and artificial representation of a space where I have never been, a postcard from a time that I can't return to. Nostalgia, certain in its uncertainty, refuses to move on; it's a a false room to come back to, again and again. Memory construct impossible, unreal spaces, that yet have bearing on those who dwell in them - much like virtual space.