she looked dead. or maybe more like a ghost. a full time security guard at the bank branch in my building. you would think being security she would always have her head up and on a swivel. on the look out for anything suspicious, eyeing and sizing up humans as they entered and exited. instead she roams aimlessly about like a nervous polar bear stuck in a zoo cage that's too small for her. doesn't she know she can leave? she looks trapped. too nervous or shy to ever make eye contact... every time i walk in she either looks at the ground or turns to head in the other direction. if not pacing, she's sitting. for what i can assume motionless for hours on end at times. daily people watching the only job perk. it makes me wonder about some people in general and how they get stuck in life. stuck in a job only to wake up 30 years later stuck in that same job. in the words of byrne, "HOW DID I GET HERE.."..... this hit me like a bag of rocks to the face almost a year ago. is this as good as it gets?
i just ripped open a form last night to reveal my favorite piece yet--a "c" split coffee table. i think, a part of the harlan line as well. all concrete. and like byrne, feels like it belongs in some punk/pop/new wave collection. it's weird. precisely why i like it. the only problem with liking some of these pieces so much is, how in the hell am i going to part with them?