Most people have very little consciousness of their own, and what consciousness they do have is what they think other people think of them–which is either good or bad or a mixture of both–proceeding from this outlook to make up what they think constitutes their own unique consciousness.

My mother wasn't this kind of person; for the most part she had her own mind, and when she didn't, when she used someone else's mind, she didn't feel good about herself. June Lee Smith was a very sweet, honorable person; she actually believed everything broken could be made whole.

Camera malfunction while thinking of my mother on her birthday, Wapiti, Wyoming, May 9, 2017.