What would it be like to visit a museum, without the little plaques next to each work of art? It’s scary to just encounter things and have to figure out for yourself where to file them. It could be impossible to tell where the exhibit ends and the world begins.

I think that would be a good thing. But most people enjoy the cards. Some even learn a thing or two that sometimes make them appreciate the work more.

Exhibit: Zachary W. Foley, late 20th century, early 21st century human.
Location: USA. Currently Los Angeles, California.

So what am I like, this person who made this website. And what more can I tell you about the drawings. Well – the drawings are all things I made on an impulse. I do at least one a day. They’re drawn fast, usually using pencil, ink, or markers or all of the above.

This is a picture I drew, a self portrait as a pile of junk. But there are many bits that could really be anyone. Medical science works because of how similar we are. So this is a fairly good likeness of anyone.

Then just below that there’s a picture of a man standing by the grave of someone who died in 1977. That’s something I haven’t done yet.

A few people said that that picture looks like me. I can get where they are coming from. I have a shirt that is nearly identical. I stand like that at times. My hair is given to shagginess.

But I’m not old enough to know many people who died in 1977. Did I know any?

I’ve read about pages where people tell a simple story with a simple chronology: As a child they discovered their calling in life. Then as they grew up that is what they became. It is what they have always done. It is their passion and true calling, and that’s why they are the best.

Well hoo-frikkin-ray for them.

People who tell the truth tell a different story: we contain multitudes. We may be actors on one day, a nurse on the next. One year making movies another spent picking up pieces.

It doesn’t have the same sort of narrative flow, but its truer to life.

And that’s what I’m like: a lot like you, I’d bet.

That’s me out on the roof for a stretch.