l i n d s a y

f o s t e r

She wears platforms and flowers on her dress. She stares into the camera, confronting herself. The lull of passerbys, of escalators moving goods, of consuming people. She reflects. She stares. She talks. 60 minutes. Am I crazy or she. I sit watching her watch. We claim neurosis. We have something in common. She's a sweet seeming girl. People pass as she stares into the lens. What is the going rate you ask? $25 an hour. That's what it takes. We're all vulnerable don't you think? We all question our time spent, right? Lilly works at the Halloween store. She doesn't budge as people stare, walking by. Her focus is admirable. I'm watching. Lying in wait, like a vulture, like a mother bird, like a waiter. To wait. To anticipate. To be present. 10 minutes have passed. This will be a long hour. This Friday morning 10:15 hour.

I want to quiet loud people. I want to elevate the quiet. The lonely. The detached. I want to attach them to something, something of mine. I connect to them; they me. Through private moments on tape. She is quiet now - boredom has set in. She's feeling the length of the long hour. Our awareness of time passing...how fast and slow it can feel. I want to slow time. Once it's slow, you want it to rush. During the rush, the fun time, you want it to slow. Why such contradictory creatures? How such relative? Who such subjective? She talks again to combat the boredom, to pass the time, to mark time. I'm marking time through writing. Time, the measurement of. Life equals time spent. Constantly in transition - never stagnant. Always a new thought; no sometimes an old thought, often repetitive. Why such repetition?

To revisit, to remind, to be stuck in mental circling, to be tired of the whirl...What about a rectangle? Can we travel the rectangle? I like the angular shape. Comfort is there - structure, rigidity. No, not a circle. I know circles. I live a circle, circling. Slow learner. No learner. It's 10:37. Good job Lilly, 22 minutes down. Marked. I'll mark them. I'll keep track for us. One third of the way there...you're doing good! Keep it up. There is a cause - you know there is, I know there is - we do it for something. No, not the money. We might think we do it for the money, but we don't. Why did you do it Lilly? 25 minutes, almost halfway there, Lilly. I'm sending you energy Lilly. Can you feel it...maybe? You are quiet. No she speaks! Is it painful yet? What is our relationship to pain? What do we look for? What drives us?

No, not the money, that's confused. Tourists stop to photograph Lilly. She doesn't break. Good work Lilly. It's 10:45. You've reached the halfway mark...!!! Keep it up. I need new souls. I need to expel. Waste...is it a waste? What constitutes a waste? Flip-flop wearing judgers??? Rot you Flip-flop, Chicago-topped judger. I send you evil thoughts. Oh Lilly, how kind you are...to do something so laborious for a stranger. I respect that. Why? I don't know, but I do. I'm grateful and I respect you. To do this act at the mall, in the awkward parking garage seating area...with judgers, never breaking your gaze. You are a powerful woman, Lilly. How many people have walked by us this Friday morning at the mall? Are they curious, most are not. Lilly talks. She blinks. She's feeling self. She's feeling time. We both feel self and time.

To take time...I'm taking time...my time, Lilly's time, Friend's time...three 60 minute times. I have altered three 60 minute people times. Slimy, slicked, dressed in black, clad in black says, "hello" to Lilly. Nothing, she's clean. She's clear. You're doing it Lilly. Good job. Quiet down loud tourists. Get out of our area, move, move, out! We have claimed this area. Homesteaded here for two 60 minute people times. Lilly and I, we have claimed. Confused tourists sit by Lilly...no! Get away. Stop talking. Stop waiting. Run away. Get out. It's not for you. They look like Lilly though...Japanese? I think. Do they feel akin to Lilly. Has she drawn them in? 45 minutes Lilly. We're on the home stretch. I know it's hard. They left...good. Sorry, that's mean. I'm not. Yes, why? Quiet child, no yelling in our studio. Out! It's getting louder - more traffic, more passerbys, more, more.

Soon to be shoppers, they are. Not Lilly and I, we are here for a cause, a commonality, a connection. I'll write while you stare. I'll keep it up. I promise. 10 more minutes, Lilly. Home stretch, so close. We've almost done it! You're not excited. I'll send you excited. Oldies stare. What say you oldie? I can't hardly wait. We're so close. Don't mess with her striped shirt man! 9 minutes, even closer, but it has slowed in all the awareness. Lilly has slowed too. I'm trying to tell her 9 minutes, but how? I'm having trouble. She's in her zone. Zone, what zone? 7 minutes, almost 5. Can she feel it? Stay away. Quiet your phone. Stop starring at Lilly. 6 minutes Lilly. I'll put myself out there too - don't worry. Hang myself with you. We'll hang together. They can judge us both. 5 minutes left. You've done so well. Shut up blender.

You are loud. I don't like you. Or are you a vacuum - quiet! Stop your noise. Thank you. Lilly and I are almost done can't you wait? 3 minutes. Only 3 minutes. Lilly is in pain. We're close, I promise...hold on, so close. I'll rescue you in 2 minutes. I'm coming, then we'll feel accomplished. We will have done something...had a productive morning. It's getting louder. Lilly is getting restless. I'm getting anxious. 1 minute left. I'm coming. Done.