I work at a gallery. Downtown, part-time. I manage the company-wide blog, answer random questions about grammar, dole out directions to places I have never been, and sell artsy things. If you lack the ability to visualize how artwork should be framed, I will come to the rescue with the perfect design. My eye is better than yours, anyway.
The postal worker assigned to our route is fantastically nice and funny. He slathers it on a bit thick at times, but is unfailingly amusing. He also has the solid recommendation of being a playwright.
We did not have any incoming mail today. This was the only delivery.
Every day, the mailman gives one customer a rose. After 9 months, it was my turn. I brought it home and, after a fruitless search for a suitable vase, popped it in my favourite wine bottle. The few flowers that find their way into my flat inevitably end up in a wine bottle, yet I ritualistically go through the motions of looking for a vase. It’s a formality that I cannot explain.
The lighting in my studio is really off tonight. I was also too lazy to fetch my Nikon. I settled for the camera on my dying Blackberry. The results were less than stunning so I decided to cheat with Photo Editor. I love the old newspaper effect. Imagine that.
Bonus points to anyone with an eye sharp enough to recognize the people or objects on the bulletin board.
What looks like a manifesting orb in the upper right corner is really my shadow as transformed through Photo Editor.
I don’t love flowers, roses are just okay. I’ve nothing complicated or poetic to say in this post, other than: sometimes, people are nice. A small gesture can have a large impact. Although the degradation of the human spirit seems so commonplace, not every human experience is negative.