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Charles Phillips
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My new house
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Absolutely like
and stuff comes out

so what do you think of the painting in the lobby?
he hands me this question gently, still, it startles me and yanks me away from a bunch of kids shooting hoops in the courtyard three floors below.
he came in so quietly that i did not even notice.

she opens the door, steps aside and motions me to go in.
he will be with you in just a few minutes, her velvety voice
soft and reassuring.
as i mutter thank you she closes the door and is gone.

i glance around the room i have just been ushered into and notice several items that strike me as unusual, perhaps  somewhat weird and unsettling even.
the large wooden desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling window to my right is cluttered with stacks of files, piles of paper, magazines, books, coffee mugs and two black rotary telephones.
if it had been me, i am thinking, i would have two different colours - it is not as if they do not come in different colours. perhaps a black one and a red one, or a green one and a yellow one.
anyway, moving on. in the corner past the window hangs a white wedding dress. it appears soiled.
then, in front of the far wall (painted black) is a life-sized statue of a naked man cast in semi opaque white resin.
a short distance from the naked man a tan coloured leather
suitcase spills an assortment of garments unto the floor.
the suitcase with two belt-like straps with buckles appears very old,
its decals faded and ragged reminders of past glory days of steamships carrying passengers and cargo across the seas.
then , of course,  the inevitable bookcase, its content of hundreds of books covering the entire wall to my left.
in front of it are two oversized leather chairs, both are green.
i presume i will be seated in one of them shortly.
i walk over to the window, the view is not spectacular, but my attention is drawn to a group of kids  on a makeshift basketball court three floors below and i soon find myself caught up in their dribbles and shots.

i turn around abruptly.
i have startled you, he observes, i apologize.
oh, that is alright, i stammer.
we shake hands, he tells me his name and i tell him mine.
 a gesture towards the two oversized green leather chairs in front of the wall of books ,
please have a seat.
would this be my first test, i wonder.
which chair to choose and how significant would my choice be?( shit, why couldn't they have been two different colours, at least then i could have  claimed i was partial to either one of them)
following what i hope is an imperceptible hesitation i pick the one on the left.
i can see the naked man from here.
he settles in in the other chair and leans forward.
the painting in the lobby? he reminds me.
the painting is of a sofa, actually only about two thirds of it is visible, the rest  is off canvas to the left, obscured as it were by some other object.
it is tattered and stained.
besides the sofa the two meter by one and a half meter oil painting
features a floor and a wall.
the entire painting is done in shades of white and grey.
did you do it? i ask
would it make a difference in your opinion, or would it make a difference in how you respond to my question?
i glance at the naked man for what seems a very long time.
it is a strong piece, i finally offer
the choice of monochromatic colour creates an ambiance of forlornness, of emptiness, of abandonment, accentuated by the deliberate decision to not show the entire object
and i do find the painting disturbing, but i do not tell him that
he leans back in the chair, places his hands behind his head and after a long pause , can you tell me why you are here?
because they sent me,  hardly an explanation
they said it might be a good idea.
they said it might be helpful.
he looks at me, but says nothing.
his silence is unnerving
i know he expects me to keep talking, but
i really don't know what to say.
i look at the naked man again
people say a lot of things, i finally continue
that is what people do, right, they open their mouths 
and stuff comes out

Mop mop flood

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come in


the doors to her inkblots and sandbox are closed
locked
on the outside they are black
i don't want to open them
all i really want is to know
if they are black on the inside as well

but it is too late
come in, come in
a face dressed in a white mask
come into my oasis of wisdom
and healing
where i will soothe your weathered spirit
you brought balloons, i see


i hear echos of rubber trees ovulating
along plastic highways hanging
from silken threads
come in come in
i knew your grandmother

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dear ? is death boring ? can I bring my sketch book .

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too funny

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Yesterday = awesome. 1 day, 13 teams & more than 50 Udacity employees in a company-wide education hackathon.
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