My dad was into Egypt, though not as much as he was into fossils. His Egypt relics are much more a part of my everyday life, however, and the life of my family. They're out and about in the house, not stuck in boxes in the garage. Maybe it's simply because there are fewer of them, and I can more easily keep them contained. 

There's more Egypt-themed stuff in our house, but Landon didn't want to talk about it. Too much pressure from dad, I guess. Wanted to keep his interests private. 

A love for Egypt has stuck with me, theoretically independent of my relationship with my father but linked with him, no doubt. It resides in a different place inside me than my love for fossils. 

In this short path you'll find a prose poem that was born in the Egyptian wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, a place I've always loved to go. It's deeply related to my desire (which was for the longest time self-frustrated) to have a family. 

Why is Egypt so wrapped up in family in my mind? Why did seeing day-to-day, familial objects make me want to have kids? Is it as simple as the vision of me and my father digging into the history of Egypt? A happy family, exploring the world of the past, that I longed to create in that precise detail? 

1. LANDON DECLINES TO BE INTERVIEWED
2. IN THE EGYPTIAN ROOMS