The CIT, Monday, November 7, 2005, 9:34 PM
Muffled conversation and softly closing doors are the only sounds in the high-ceilinged room. A pallet-load of plastic-wrapped phone books looms in a corner. Chairs litter the expansive carpeted floor.
A young woman exits the elevator and walks purposefully through the space, head down, books clutched tight beneath her chin. She rounds the corner of a thick, jutting wall, detects movement on her left, and turns, startled.
She confronts a mirror-image of herself.
Her face, rendered in grainy black and white, stares back at her, and jittery red letters bounce upon her shoulders.
Her expression is first one of disbelief, then embarassment, as she realizes that much of the room can see her larger-than-life image. The letters pile up on the top of her head. “CONVERSING” falls and fades along her silhouette as she backs away from the screen. She waves her arm, suspicious, and “turning around” appears in a neat diagonal with the movement. It floats, then falls gracefully.
She smiles.
When she leaves the picture, the words “as in your turning around” form an excited line above her head, then descend like fat snowflakes.
i don’t get it
November 8th, 2005 | #
you wouldn’t.
check this out for illumination, bitch.
http://www.camilleutterback.com/textrain.html
November 9th, 2005 | #
i was gonna write you wouldn’t too! but then i got scared and didn’t. i wouldn’t.
November 10th, 2005 | #
i take it that thing is going on in the cit now. brown and it’s self referential modern art.
November 13th, 2005 | #