Yellow Things

<p><span></span><em>I was raging against a color she said / matter of factly / her braids consisting of an ever so slightly increasing number of strands</em><span> </span></p><p></p><p><strong><em>Yellow Things: A Family Operetta</em></strong><span> retraces a childhood of round and rounding days in the Texas Gulf Coast and presses onwards into the dreamy flatlands of Ohio potentially misremembered café encounters in New England and nameless landscapes populated by ghostly pink rabbits.</span></p><p></p><p><span>A fascination with change and repetition runs through Caroline Fernelius' debut which attempts - by experiment and alchemy - to uncover a string of alternate family histories and perhaps even resolve a decades-long familial drama in the process. </span><strong><em>Yellow Things</em></strong><span> tasks itself with reconstructing memories setting them in motion and observing as they become their own tiny worlds.</span></p><p></p><p><span>The result is a distinctive and unwavering exploration of who can claim ownership of an experience and ultimately of the process of writing itself.</span></p>