What's the line from James Salter's "A Sport and a Pastime"? "A flash of elegant calf and you are tumbled into unbearable love"? You look up from your cup, the waitress turns kitchenward, her ankle blooms with daisy. I do not know her name, only this tattoo and smiles of hello or good-bye. This is a demonstrative solitude. Even silent and shy and swathed in shadow in barroom darkness, this, too, is sociability, the contact buzz of other human existence. I will write about you: but that is another story.
"Artless at Work," Ray Pride
[Detail from Architrouve show; original Chicago Avenue west of Winchester Street]
