A piece of moonlit experience I no longer indulge in. But here is where the observation takes place. What is life but a series of signals? A collection of things one hoards into small apartments and then adorns as they enters the public world. A sight to be seen. A person of note, one hopes. Presenting themselves like a business card saying, “Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my God, it even has a watermark!” These are the tokens I like to swim in. The objects of desire that mean more than their physicality. A Martini, let's say. A martini is sex. It requires a delicate hand, a fragile temperament, moved too quickly, and you’ll spill the entirety.

Nobody likes the taste of Vodka. You could tell me you do, but I’ll see the show behind the curtains. If you like it, it’s for one of two reasons. You’re dependent on it, or you’re trying to be sophisticated. We’re all in some version of both camps. A people obsessed with status, or just myself obsessed with what makes a status symbol. I want glamour, goddamn it. I want your charades and adornment, purchases that reflect your inner being, not the state of nature in which you were born. We must prove ourselves endlessly to new potentials, old acquaintances and most importantly, those who will never know us but whose opinion must be regarded. My intrigue isn’t so much for who you are but specifically who you want to be. Whilst your tastes and preferences might be interesting, what is worthy of discovery, is where did you get this opinion, moreover, from whom? Who’s style are you trying to emulate, which type of person does the activities you venture to do? Where did you see a Martini drunk and file it away as the epitome of class? A drink, no, an experience of sophistication that positions you firmly in the category to which you wish to be seen. Strong like your values, sharp like your wit and dirty like your inner thoughts. I’m presenting a martini, but far more than that, I’m presenting your better self, your higher power, the self you feel like after two drinks down. I present the image of yourself that not even the best mirror can reflect. But good art can.