In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

| 38 I Stepped on the Head of Man Ray I stepped on the head of Man Ray and my family portraits fell out. I stepped on the head of Man Ray and elderly health care oozed out. When Man Ray said stop, I studied picture after picture with my foot holding his head down because my photograph was in there. In the cruelty of my long illness, my healed mind left the hospital, Man Ray’s photo of robotic flowers the map to the traitor who turned me in and took Man Ray away to shoot objects that never suffered. I stepped on the head of Man Ray and chemical development of photos opened its long, sleek legs to give me a peek or two. I was not ready and waited for Man Ray to get off the floor with a hard head, stare at me, and reach for his camera. In the steadiness of my recovery, Man Ray took a picture of me, though I have never seen it and there is a rumor it lies in his archives—the shot when I blinked and a certain light emerged. ...

Share