(Sugar Docks, Toronto, 2008)It's hard to know what they're thinking, but if you look at the little details; how their hands moves and their eyes look deep yours and then they too notice their hand movement and look back at you; unsure how to take your expression, and then they cock their head a few degrees to the right, and you lean your head forwards at the same time cocking it slightly to the lower left of your body, and she smiles, maybe out of confession or just to actualize a moment; a moment the both of you just shared as you smile back, you had this moment you're thinking, you just created, maybe even birthed this moment, and between both of you; you and her are the proud owners of this moment as you move your hands to express what your words are telling her; detailing the size of things, the way things move in your world, and their scale because it just seems to require hand movement that almost knocks over the condiments if it weren't for her watchful eyes, looking at your every movement, catching the clearly red ketchup bottle that could only be ketchup, not mustard like the clearly yellow mustard bottle, and now it is in her hand, the ketchup not the mustard, and she is looking into your eyes, she is saying with the slow blinking gaze that she too acknowledges this moment, her hands approaching yours, she looks excited, like she had discovered something, maybe even invented something as she gets closer and closer and her lips part like a divine escape from an Egyptian pharaoh, as she inhales you inhale, and she looks deeper into your eyes, and you look deeper into hers, and your lips part like waters of the Red Sea, and the flood is in heavy clouds now, as you make hand gestures implying you have an ark, and she gestures with her hands she has the animals, your hands form two legs each and do a walking motion across the table, she looks deeper into your eyes, she tells you with her gaze, she has two of each, we only need each other now.
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