All Creativity Consists In Making Something Out Of Nothing.
The Only Thing I’m Sure Of Is That They’re Wearing Bowlers.
Take off your boots. Where did you go? The door? There’s nothing at the door yet, I’ve already looked. Why did I look? Because I’m waiting. I’m waiting for this shirt.
Yes, I do know what this shirt will be printed like! At least, I will know it when I’ve seen it. Not that I’ve ever seen it. But I’ve seen a rendition of it, and that rendition will be enough for me to know when I see the shirt what- oh! What if it’s in a bag? How will I know it through the bag? What stupidity! I could kick myself! Oh, but I have only ordered the one shirt, so when I see the bag, I will know. I will know that the bag is the herald that announces the impending arrival of my shirt.
There are times when I wish I’d never ordered it.
I’m hungry, are you? Should we order a pizza? Oh, but then, when there is a knock at the door, how will we know? What if it’s the delivery man, that is to say, the wrong delivery man, and not the one we were expecting? Shall we sign or pay? Or pay or sign? What if they both arrive together, and one is offended? What if they exchange amongst themselves without a knock, some private joke between the two to which we are never privy? What then?
It is too late for a delivery man tonight. I am going. I am going bare-chested and never again thinking of this shirt. I wish I’d never ordered it, I do, I do.
What are you doing? That’s not for your coat. That’s the space in the closet where the shirt will go. When it arrives, of course.
Wear this shirt? Yes, Let’s wear this shirt. As soon as it is delivered.
Don’t wear this shirt. But we must wear this shirt! As soon as it is delivered, we will wear this shirt.
This shirt tells the world: What, are you a fool? Who can predict what this shirt will tell the world? When the shirt arrives, we can look at it then and decide.
We call this color: Creme? Did you know this shirt was creme? Where did you hear that? Maybe I don’t want to wait now. What is the point of waiting if… where are you going? Why did you put your boots on? We’re waiting and that’s final.
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