A VERY UNOFFICIAL OBSERVATION BOOK
Notes on the
show of hands.
Small gestures, ordinary objects, and a few remarks that probably belong in the margins.
FIELD NOTE / 01
The hand that says hello.
A wave is a surprisingly complete sentence. It can greet, interrupt, locate a friend across the room, or admit that the last bus is leaving without you. The hand does the whole performance before the voice has found its first word.
Opening Act began with that little entrance: a chrome object beside a hand with a face, both waiting for an ordinary moment to become slightly theatrical.
No rehearsal required.
FIELD NOTE / 02
An interval is a real scene.
A day likes to behave as if every pause is available for another task. The quiet minute between two things gets a notification, a reminder, and occasionally an entirely new meeting.
We imagined Intermission as a small object for that interval. A tea-and-bergamot scent idea, a chrome tube with a graphite-silver cap, and enough personality to suggest that the pause can simply remain a pause.
These thumbs have a prior engagement.
FIELD NOTE / 03
A slow clap for the everyday.
Hands perform an impressive number of unremarkable jobs. Lifting the mug. Finding the keys. Holding the page open while the other hand reaches for something it immediately forgets.
Curtain Call belongs to the end of that list. Its soft scent concept and rose-gold detail are imagined as the last small resident of a bedside scene. A hand can finally rest without being presented with a clipboard.
The encore can be tomorrow.