Joybomb again wahooo

A window in Mayfair. An artist. A collaboration.

Amy is fucking cool. She wants me to be talking to humans with a mascot head on. All she needs of me is to be in the little room she has made and to ask good questions of my visitors. I only had one proper punter today, a young Portuguese lady who opened up her life to Panda. She was the perfect person to start with because she honestly didn’t mind sharing everything. She came ready to share. I don’t know what’s in the press release, but I’m having to think about how to make sure my guests leave the room safe if they share big. It feels like it’s Panda-therapy, and even if many of my friends have gone and trained in various therapies, I didn’t and I’m not the vicar I might have been. I’m a strange man with a Panda head. But it turns out that, right now, with the whole world exploding, strangePanda-human is the guy you need. It reminds me of reading tarot for strangers. It seems communing with Panda inhabits a similar place. We are stuck. We need something out of the ordinary. Enter the Panda.

I’m gonna be sitting in a Mayfair window, variously applying hunour and empathy. I’m gonna be trying to make things lovely for my visitors.

Already it’s been joyful for me. Brian’s office is next door, and various denizens have successfully caught me between shifts. It’s free, so if you’re in Bond Street and need cheering up, book. It’s free.

We are starved of unusual joy, and we are starved of free things that have any weight. This is definitely unusual, and I think there’s weight, just in the chance we have to properly talk to strangers. My mask gives me freedom to say anything, but I’m still not certain of the best way to start and end the interaction. I can take it from my guest, but if it gets crowded I’ll need a timer. Maybe tomorrow I’ll bring in my fifteen minute sand timer… I got it for another project, but it’s good… Just the sand is black. For his project it needs to be bright.

Much to do. Lots of fun to be had. Inflatable dogs and fluffy cats and weird things aplenty, and it looks like this’ll be two weeks of weird but total delight. Maybe I’ll see some of you there. The rest, I’ll just be that Panda in your dreams.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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