I work in a public art gallery, so I’m surrounded by beauty and confusion in one their fiercest battlegrounds. Museums, like hospitals, are glorious, messy and abrupt places. People are at their most demanding and raw. Sometimes, for my allotted lunch, I’ll stuff my lanyard in my pocket and take a walk, to see other people see things. It’s the quickest method I’ve found of ‘getting out of my own head’ and dissolving into the lives of others. Often, I wear my black blazer with matching pants to blend in more successfully with the security guards. Something about black in an art gallery renders you mostly invisible. But still, I carry an earpiece I was given as a prop once in my jacket pocket, just in case.
Bloody love this. Beautifully written. Poignant.