Downtown 6 train, NYC
This morning on the Q train I noticed that the woman across from me was sketching me. I looked away before she noticed that I noticed, knowing that a mutual recognition of the event would alter it significantly or end it altogether. The gaze of another person inevitably demands something of us, often shame. (Shame is endemic to the story of Adam and Eve.) I wondered what she saw, why she saw. I wondered if my body language would have changed if she were a man. I wondered if I was being seen, drawn “as a woman.” But I trusted something about her, about the way she seemed to understand the thinness of the veil, and I probably would have stayed on the train longer if I hadn’t already been a half hour late to work.
Alfred Hitchcock through R train window, 23rd Street, March 19, 2014