1913issue6online

86 categorize our experiences, we would be confronted with total chaos.” Ø Initially, the basic requirements of being a gallery assistant suit- ed me just fine. I loved making figure eights with a mop across the black wooden floors on winter days to clean away the salt tracked in by patron’s shoes. I loved drinking coffee in the or- dered, peaceful silence where I was asked to photograph exhib- its and write press releases. The art around me inspired me. It echoed what I can see, from a distance, as an essential quality of my boss. There was a sense of cleanliness, light and loss in the small landscapes, abstract photographs and glass sculptures that he chose to exhibit. It was like being surrounded by stylish ghosts— memories and relationships that have been blued or blotted, tarnished and refashioned over time. I also relished in the state-of-the-art sound system, which played good music at a volume as satisfying as the temperature of a perfect cup of tea. I loved the smell of the organic mushroom dressing my boss used every day on his salad. The neatness of the gallery prompted me to feel clearheaded and contained. At the same time, though, something about the sharp lines made by hanging rulers, art books, desk edges, drawers of prints, stacks of paper and matte cutters also separated me from some central aspect of the art world. I was privileged enough to wander around, but I felt left out. Or left behind to look sur- reptitiously through someone else’s valuables, like a house sit- ter. I began to notice that this space was protected by an in- visible fence of electric energy. It seemed that if I approached it at the wrong time, in the wrong manner, I might get into trouble. The patrons who came in were easy to distinguish from the other locals. They were adults of any sex or ethnicity, but their clothes were tailored exactly to fit their forms. White, gray and black outfits were accented by a very deliberate line, splash or dot of color. Faces looked scrubbed and vibrant, and the man- ner in which our visitors walked had an air of ease and confi- dence. Conversations were more like lists or recitations—names of people, foreign countries, exhibitions and institutions— that would hopefully elicit a warm crescendo of recognition from my boss. When he opened up to them, his back was toward me.

1913issue6online

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