Things I Forget to Tell Myself is an elusive observation of the disclosing and withholding of information, what is and isn't shown, what is and isn't seen. Asks Silver, "Once it is seen, how is it read?" Images and sounds recorded in the streets of New York City are rhythmically intercut with a fragmented sentence: "We waste time on absurd clues and pass by the truth without suspecting it." A hand is placed in front of the camera to frustrate vision, so that the viewer glimpses only parts, instead of the whole. This enigmatic work questions not only the fragmentation of seeing and reading information, but the fragmentation of meaning as well.