Thursday, March 4, 2010

a small gate, a can of paint, and a greeter.

one-eyed brass lion's head - filbert steps - sf, ca

passageway passwords were common growing up. you want to cross between two desks? what's the password? you want to cross the grassy threshold leading to the kickball diamond? what's the password? i wasn't cool enough to be the gatekeeper then, but there are times now--when passing through narrow spaces--that i imagine which word i'd choose if i were in control. something, ideally, that would make my domain as exclusive as possible.

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