Years ago when I was 17, my parents hit rock bottom. I went out on my own and ended up living in a trailer park with a boyfriend. I lived there just a couple years before moving on. About four years ago, the trailer park was slated to be demolished, and they moved the few remaining people out. Before they razed it to build a Whole Foods, I went by and took some pictures. All the trailers were sinking into the ground. Many looked like they had been blown apart. Some were occupied by area homeless people. I took some pictures of my old place and a couple others and idealized them into simple paintings on cardboard. The first is the trailer I rented with the now vanished boyfriend. The second one is of a trailer behind me where a guy lived with a small tabby cat. He read the bible at night and walked back and forth between our trailers reciting verses and hitting the front of his head. Once he baked me brownies with a now legal herbal substance. Sometimes I shop at the Whole Foods and realize that my trailer’s remains are buried beneath the fancy yogurt cooler. The ghost of the guy’s trailer is near an expensive spice and syrup display. So it goes. I am committed to never buying organic $18 maple syrup, but I do enjoy Fage Yogurt.