Doodling on a page from an obsolete Saint Germain-en-Laye phone book (I keep wanting to say Facebook). It’s obsolete for two reasons. First it was last year’s phone book. Second, who uses phone books nowadays anyway?
I wonder about the connection between these particular people on this particular page. They all live in the same town. Their names all begin with the same letter – M. I myself am somewhere in this book but not on this page.
I’ve re-organized the relationships between these names by sketching, then painting skyscrapers/apartment buildings around them. Now at least they are grouped in the same neighborhood, each on a different floor. But in reality I realize they are probably not connected to each other at all. I also realize that some of these people have probably left town and don’t belong in the book at all. Like me.
In Raymond Carver’s short story, “Where I’m Calling From” the narrator struggles with feelings of social alienation, and wanting to escape his own identity. We actually never even learn his name.