So yesterday afternoon I walk out of the apartment where Victory Gardens is housing us writers (we decided last night to call it the Treehouse–with apologies to Bonds and Kittredge, of course), and I’m late for rehearsal, but I have to stop and take a picture, because the first thing I see is this:
On some level, this is the exact opposite of Lonely Socks — gloves in a satisfied pair, with a matching hat thrown in for good measure. But somehow, this arrangement feels lonelier to me, especially when viewed in context:
I can’t help thinking of the last line of Ludacris’s verse on Nas’s Made You Look (remix): “I’m just a victim of society/it’s Chris the menace/with more shit out on the streets/than evicted tenants.” And that’s how I see this trio: evicted, tossed out and tossed out together, left behind as a unit because someone made an active decision to dismiss them from his or her life. When you’ve got a solitary sock, it feels like a mistake. This feels purposeful. Poor, sad work gear.
BONUS MATERIAL!!! — Not far from the door to The Treehouse, one can find this graffiti:
And here’s the Treehouse itself:
And finally, this is where I sleep:
Expect a proper update on rehearsals and all that…eventually.