My skeletal familiar

I have a new companion in my writing room these days.

 

This is “Failing Sparrow,” named for the street near where artist Matt Hall found it. (He took the above photo as well; click it to go to his Tumblr.) The paper behind Failing Sparrow is a partial map of Portland; the red pin marks where Hall discovered Failing Sparrow. The apothecary jars hold some of its feathers.

Creepy? Morbid? Maybe. But I love to look at this assemblage and think about the painstaking work Hall did to reassemble and preserve it, especially when I’m trying to make a story out of thoughts that often seem as fragile and fragmentary as Failing Sparrow’s bones.