Paper is our inanimate skin. It bears the evidence of our hand, the images of our selves. Photographs capture moments in forgotten stories. I add phrases cut from old books and letters (bought in junk stores or on eBay) to capture the imagined facts or emotional tone of the photograph. The resulting cento is in haiku format, which mirrors the brevity of the photographed moment and the fragmentary nature of the imagined story. Paper in a foreign language reminds us that we can never know the whole story. Torn and incomplete pieces of paper suggest the selective but persistent nature of memory.