I actually spied a lone smoker on the 3rd floor balcony two weeks ago. He was on the phone and looked most exiled from his nouveau Brooklyn digs.
The balcony became almost like a floating phone booth. It had been my contention that such a balcony was for the social outcast, the lone wolf, the hater. But, while passing below I listened hard for sounds of angst but nothing about the fellow's presence seemed misanthropic. He was mellow. Just a mellow dude smoking his cigarette and talking on the phone. Yet, something about his behavior in the confines of his small aerie made me see this architectural oddity in a new light.
Perhaps it should be looked on in the same way we swaddle babies and autistics: a comforting tightness that encapsulates the individual while keeping the total amount of sensory input to a minimum. Perhaps genius strikes in such places. Or, perhaps it is just a place to get away from your pumpkins and everyone else.
I actually spied a lone smoker on the 3rd floor balcony two weeks ago. He was on the phone and looked most exiled from his nouveau Brooklyn digs.
The balcony became almost like a floating phone booth. It had been my contention that such a balcony was for the social outcast, the lone wolf, the hater. But, while passing below I listened hard for sounds of angst but nothing about the fellow's presence seemed misanthropic. He was mellow. Just a mellow dude smoking his cigarette and talking on the phone. Yet, something about his behavior in the confines of his small aerie made me see this architectural oddity in a new light.
Perhaps it should be looked on in the same way we swaddle babies and autistics: a comforting tightness that encapsulates the individual while keeping the total amount of sensory input to a minimum. Perhaps genius strikes in such places. Or, perhaps it is just a place to get away from your pumpkins and everyone else.
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