she has chosen to wander and contemplate the last things of Empire because her life’s story, and her destiny, has been to be a pallbearer of sorts, a funeral singer of the kind you meet in Haiti. When her parents were born, two-thirds of the world map was colored pink; over the course of her adult life (since she came of age in 1944), she has seen one great possession of Empire after another fall away, into an independence that has not always been another word for self-sufficiency. Champion always of the mavericks and victims of Empire, the people along its sidelines, she has found herself, willy-nilly, the old order’s elegist, wandering around its battlefields to count the dead.
-Philosopher and the Photographer