I have written many goodbye letters, the majority of them I never sent; they sit on my desktop or in an old sketchbook, withering away, waiting for their own extinction through an accidental mishap or late night sporadic erasure. Goodbye, what does it mean, and what makes for a good-bye? I have sat with lovers at random restaurants, skipped funerals hoping avoidance could shatter reality, and exited many rooms thinking no one would notice. When acted out, goodbye’s test each others honesty and faith to one another and one’s integrity. If only we had one more hug, one more kiss. The last word never feels right and so we follow it with yet another hug and yet another kiss. Bodies peel apart, someone turns and walks away, and the other often stays behind. It’s not so easy becoming someone’s stranger.
Suite 216 is a letter project. It’s an opportunity to write a goodbye, or share a goodbye that has yet to be communicated. They can be handwritten or typed, carved into a tree and photographed, or screamed from the top of a building as you collect your tears and saliva onto a piece of paper; so long as it fits in an envelope. It can be to an ex-lover or to a lost friend or family member. It can be written to you by you, to a moment or a bad habit, it can be anonymous, or it can be signed.
All goodbyes must be mailed to 3006 West 7th St Suite 216, Los Angeles CA 90005, by the Summer of 2016; they will then be compiled for a publication to be released later in the year. Privacy will be considered upon request. Please contact David Bell at [email protected] with any questions or concerns.