Another thought for California: (Part 1 of Braydee's Response)

This artwork depicts all the keys that were given to my father when he purchased the YMCA (except one which I added for variation). I was recently given a key which I signed a contract promising to return after one week. It was one of 17 or 18 keys made to open the front door of Braydee's house but it was quickly apparent that not one of them worked. Her project was based on a fabrication - on trusting an audience that may open her door and do harm to her space (or merely occupy it or, or, or). Ultimately, she controlled us by giving us a key that didn't work. I felt cheated once I knew my key wouldn't fit in her door so I didn't return it. Why should I remain true to the contract I signed when it was based on a falsehood? I am usually one to live up to my word (signed particularly) but I couldn't this time. I thought about burying it in her yard but I missed two golden opportunities to do so. Today I decided that her key would become my personal symbol for the "home" I'm trying to find this summer. I'm taking it to California and I'm giving it away. I'm burying it there. I'm attaching it to a piece of driftwood and sending it out to sea. I'm using it to open someone else's door. I'm continuing the lie by making it mine. It's the metaphor for the home I will not find.