A very rundown building/possible crack house near my studio burned down shortly after Christmas. This is the memorial to a woman who died, presumably, in the fire. I walk by it every day, in its shifting form, and remember that I have a lot of things to be grateful for.
For the record, for my own memorial, however distant it may be, I do not want Hennessy. In fact, I’d prefer my memorial not take up any physical space at all.