My day is spent noticing the shadows that aluminum cans make on the edges of sidewalks. Cars behind me on the street honk to remind me that watching an old woman with pushcarts sort through a stack of Time magazines does not postpone green traffic lights.

I eat lunch and pretend to read the newspaper when I am actually looking at the way preschoolers slide fries off their trays with a straw.

Phillip, will you STOP?

Every day I spend time and energy on the simple movement of objects and people. Their movement in space-their posture and their simple gestures: how little toys are left on dashboards-notebooks thrown into backseats and coats left in restaurant booths.

Thousands and thousands of random details strewn about my landscape-mixed with the soundtrack of my radio, their conversations and traffic noises. Some people have to strain to notice these dramas, or they don't see them at all. I have to squint to ignore them.

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