At the January sales, a crowd of eager popping eyes and pointing fingers, everything reduced in worth and value. I watch people trying on things that do not match or fit, except for the price tag. If I stand still here long enough, someone will buy me. A whole industry exists for this moment of impulse, stampeding to own. I hunt to see if any shops are offering a charity bag, charity points, something to invest differently. Wouldn`t it be great, I think, to have an open talent card, that turns money into credit to invest in others.
It is the New Year, with the same list of promises to do better, do good, do more or less, all the things we know are better than the ball of stress and selfishness we revert to. Which itself spawns another set of products to buy, gym passes, lifestyle choices, lists of make believe trends. How to hold onto the purity of one`s thoughts from midnight? How to keep on remembering those we forget? To be the person we put back into the attic with the decorations...
The questions fade into the returning train`s crush of bags holding onto bodies, as though we have become accessories to our purchases. I feel like I have been caught up in a sanctioned riot, without the broken glass. Awash in this material world, the real advantages are where people are travelling to tonight, to what conversations and connections behind closed doors.
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