dinner for 9

treading down a hall my steps are heavy and filled with anticipation. i enter a wooden room, wooden only in its floor, yet wooden in light. each strip green on top and layers that are ripped away scattering about pieces of paint that reveal a more intimate pink that seems familar. in the back several new friends. tania.gosia.deleuze.faucoult.naginoda.diego luna.each of them sit on a wooden brown chairs with their backs to the wall forming a line against it, all eyes are on me. to the righ there is a metallic perforated surface from the cieling to the floor that recieves the light source from a large window. the surface plays the role of a wall and makes a division from my perspective between deleuze and lecourbusier. ys i just remembered lecourbusier was there as well. paulo is making me dinner in the new chinese asparagus heating device i got from soho,he eyes me amused at my wonder of our dinner guests.there is no table no plates, only paulo smiling at me . there is an erotic presence in the situation, an eery lovely warm light that welcomes yet the only sound emitted from the pots that he opens and shuts seem to remind that there is no chatter from my guests. only stares.welcome.