20 hours of travel/work straight. Glamorous. Angelo and I talking in the smoking lounge of the airport about how an unclear future is part of Fabrica’s structure, about how when I first discovered Fabrica I thought I would join the “being and dying” department, and about this being the anniversary of the day I found out my first love had died.
Angelo had been up till 3. I had been up till 1, drinking and chatting with Kristen (while wiring the new fans). I had a plane-beer while Angelo had a nap.
There was a public transit strike in Athens and a “creative technologist” as Angelo called her, drove our taxi, operating two phones and a tablet with her long nails. We sat with the Polish artist who we would make friends with and eat breakfast with and party with, but first we had to install my piece, which we did until after midnight.