Eating at a China bistro with my mother; 10 October
We are served by a white girl wearing pale blue eye contacts. I thought of Marilyn Manson and how wearing eye contacts is, I guess, still a way to express yourself.
Trying to show my mother a book displaying 30-something plates from the Book of Kells because she thinks she doesn't understand me. A man behind my mother has a greying Hitler moustache. He sits in a large semi-circular booth, across from a much younger woman. They don't seem to be related, nor on a date, nor at a business meeting. They look like they hardly know each other. It's like they just ended up there, together.
Always waiting for someone else to show up.
I don't show my mother the book. The pair ends up drinking wine, laughing about whatever.
