WORKS ON DIGITAL PAPER

Color Fields, New York

I don't remember my exact age, but I remember it being in a hotel room before I hit my teens. I was watching Jimmy Swaggert on the television as my mother puttered around the room doing something. Her movements were in the periphery. I don't remember how long I watched the show or what exactly it is that he said, but I remember repeating the words of the alter call. The dear-Jesus-I-want-you-as-my-personal-savior-sincerely-me words. I felt great afterwards, like I had accompished something for the first time solely of my own initiative. Something big. I looked at my mother and told her I had just accepted Jesus as my personal savior. She looked at me in her startled way and said oh.