Out 1

Out 1

Perhaps that face in the window of the next car over, just before the light changes is a face you've seen before. On a train. Walking a dog in the park. 500 miles away with the kids in a two star hotel continental breakfast. This is Out 1.

Sometimes you have trouble falling asleep. As children, our parents read us bedtime stories, but the stories we tell ourselves now are more sinister. You think about the world that at every turn seems to beat you into the ground. Sometimes you feel like the only person in this alone. That everyone else knows something you don't, that the world is leaving you behind, failed to give you the secret. Somehow this is easier than accepting that maybe the world is just as mundane. This is Out 1.

There is nothing more beautiful than the human face, across which dances the interiority of a life. The arch of an eyebrow, small twist at the corner of the mouth, a small tilt of the head with eye contact - words and phrases may repeat and repeat until they lose their meaning; they can never bring you as close as these silent expressions. Truth and enigma. This is Out 1.

Life branches outward. Conclusions never arrive until death when the loose threads are abandoned to no significant purpose. Answers don't exist, yet the search for them is not futile - call it a coping mechanism. This is Out 1.

Every waking moment is both authentic and a performance. Improvisation. A distanced prime mover and a helpless chess pawn, all locked into the human psyche. Humans are social animals, you see. We want to express our deepest interiority. But we watch ourselves, filter, analyze, react, dance, build up courage, erupt, withdraw. This is Out 1.

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