Pretty Faces

Tuesday, 2 July 2002

to­day i am sur­rounded by beauty. the clus­ter is filled with pretty faces star­ing in­tently at the sundry tasks be­fore them. a wrin­kle of con­cen­tra­tion here, the trout look there, bits of half heard mum­bled span­ish. in­nu­mer­able sighs. here come three more pretty faces. i hope we have enough work­sta­tions to trap them in this cin­derblock par­adise. even if a caged bird stops singing you can still ad­mire its plumage. i can’t keep them caged un­der my scopophilic gaze though. i’ll let them fly away and spend their smiles on oth­ers. i hope they ap­pre­ci­ate what they have been given.

it is best when they laugh though. for it above all things makes them more than just an ob­ject and gives them per­son­al­ity. a sud­den burst or a muf­fled gig­gle have the same im­pact on me. it un­plugs them from the ma­trix just long enough to break the im­per­sonal si­lences that per­vade the day. it burns it­self into my mind like the phos­phor af­ter­glow on a fad­ing tv screen. the late show is over. time to go to bed.