Inland

"What garlic is to salad, insanity is to art." -Augustus Saint-Gaudens

Cynthia's phone is broken, so she sends me and Carinne an email asking if we can work on Friday. Things need to be packed, there's an exhibit to be set up, and I still have to finish the accession reports. Apparently the storage room lock is broken and I get to learn another "wholly unseemly way of getting in."

Day seven.

Imagine my disappointment when the lock was fixed.

Imagine my disappointment when I realize I need more copies of the condition reports and I've already interrupted Cynthia once, twice during her interview with the newspaper. So instead of doing what I should have done and gone to ask for the Xerox key, I fill out the accession forms and wrestle with tissue paper to pack the large prints. The roll is roughly as tall as I am, I haven't the foggiest where to find the razor blades (remember those?), so I'm just tearing it off of the roll in a not-so-dignified fashion.

Eventually the interview is finished, the condition reports are copied, and I'm sent to help pack up an exhibit.

Except we have no packing tape.

"Um, yeah just be creative. There's some tape still stuck to the old bubblewrap."

Excellent.

Carinne and I wrap up these paintings, re-wrap them because we did it incorrectly, and attempt to stuff them into the packing boxes.

"There was some space in between them so I...got creative with the styrofoam."
"Well let's add some bubblewrap too."

Did you know that you should tape a box flap down at least six times?