customer: blond. flat face. tiny frame. fast fluid movements.
bought: various portraits by
(from the breathing box)
interaction:
my trinkets received no free attention from the blond lady. she was a hornet moving through my booth, hovering with her head above her determined steps. she drew straight lines between the objects, moving from item to item with indifferent speed. she gave no obligatory long nods or soft blinks of consideration to what was displayed. nothing slowed her until she reached a particular box of art, of portraits mostly.
dropping down, she started shuffling through them. she held out pieces she liked with outstretched arms. and the ones she really liked made her head vibrate. after placing one to her side, she broke into an impenetrable rant.
she told me how much she can’t stand realistic or realism art, telling me that people should go buy a camera. there were lots of mutters and grunts any time she said the word “real” so it was hard to understand for sure. but I did catch that she thought realistic type of art was more of a vocational craft, like plumbing or hedge trimming, than art. that gave me a nose chuckle. she did not notice. at one point the rant turned to mirrors and she started talking faster and faster, and as she placed another art piece at her side, she said mirrors are liars, that they reflect no part of her. she looked down at the painting to her side and gave a couple of taps to the frame. she was levitating at this point. and then she told me that these art pieces were her mirror.
eventually she stood up and picked up her stack. they were an assortment of work by Guy Denning. after thanking me, she turned and walked out of my booth. I stuck her rant in my pocket as I continued to watch her walk, head in front of her feet, in a determined line past all the other booths.
her rant had walls and teeth so I never got the chance to tell her about how I found those paintings in the Finistère or about the mirrors I have in the back, or how the box she dug through was one of the very few labeled things in my booth, and how there’s duct tape on the bottom that reads “the breathing box.” those thoughts too, were for the pocket.
below is the art the lady left with. for more by Guy Denning
thankk youuu for stopping by. love ya!