The pros, they would make it look like ballet; all about the line, you know. Each time you stole a glance over there it would look like a Skrebneski photo – the arabesques and flourishes completely in balance, the look so classic it seemed to be rendered in black and white. Under the gaze of amateurs they moved confidently, measured even in facial expression, dressed professionally, pure poise. They generally were partners in life in some other way, this kind of symbiosis develops only through shared experienced and some affection, and they came and left together, often in mystery. One might reasonably think that, in the morning, they gathered their things and went to the museum, searching for Bernini sculptures upon which to model their movements. Gazing upon the marble they’d posit their ultimate destiny. Perhaps their memorials would be carved in stone and, if they’d deliberated in the mirror and chosen the right pose, the piece would be celebratory.  The hard thump of  House Music might be piped into the mausoleum, a perfect Skrebneski-esque counterbalance to the soft touch and beautiful line of their time together.

-Danny Grosso

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