Getting Dry- a biography through clothes left to dry. I love this concept- at first glance I thought of walking from campus to my friend Andrew's apartment in college. A tiny, awkwardly shaped shelter- it must have been a tool shed. As we approached I looked up to a house with a tired looking floral sheet draped of the window. There was a soft rain coming down and the sheet exhibited it well. Andrew laughed, "Like poverty, wait until you see my place." Inside the fridge took up about 1/3 of the first room (kitchen/living/dining). Old pillow cases and sheets had been converted into three mismatched curtains over the three tiny windows. He lifted the top of the stove to show me that it was- somehow detached. I chuckled a bit. The invitation prompted him,
"Do you want to get some posters or something with me? We can go to the mall. I'll drive. It's so depressing in here. My dad said it's better than the places he lived in, in New York, when he went to Columbia- but yesterday morning I got up and was drinking my OJ with the fridge door still open and this stray cat had come in, in the window. It was watching me, so I yelled and it got stuck in the window when it was struggling to get out."
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