A Reel of Borrowed Light

To the one in the last row,

When the projector comes on, a faded gold circle appears on the wall before the picture does. Light is always borrowed: the moon borrows from the sun, the screen from the projector, the homesick from the moonlight before the bed. A poet wrote: "Before my bed, the bright moonlight; I take it for frost on the ground. I raise my head and gaze at the bright moon; I lower it and think of home." — Li Bai, "Quiet Night Thought" (c. 726)

This letter comes from Chinatown in Los Angeles, early 1991. The envelope is cream paper, and its tall, thin cinematic lettering is crossed by a line of the director's elegant handwriting. In a dark green filmstrip sits the framed silhouette of a corner of Chinatown, with blocks of terracotta shop-sign ink and that faded gold projection circle.

Come and borrow a little light. A letter is a small reel, shown one frame at a time, and sooner or later it will glow on someone's wall.

Yours, by borrowed light

Storm Post Office

Early 1991 · Chinatown, Los Angeles