I prowl thrift stores for fresh identities.
Rows of clothes tantalize me as I flick through. The textures patterns smells speak to me of past inhabitants and future adventures. I take them by the bagload, and they hang in my clutter until the right moment.
They hang in my clutter until I find the right inspiration. And inspiration is everywhere.
When I’m not prowling thrift stores, I prowl people.
The fantasy of the invisible woman follows me from the pages of cheap comics to my less dayglo but as unlikely existence. I watch people without them seeing me. I take from them, without them noticing the theft. I become other people. I dress up. I change. I force myself into places I don’t belong, and create situations from nothing.
What I discovered from watching people: the power to extrapolate. Seeing how they move, hearing a few of the words they use, I fill the rest in. I start to imagine who they are. What they think about, where they’ve been. I fill in the blanks.
And that’s what I take with me when I meet people. Becoming others, I hide who I am. It’s not enough for me to dress up and become someone else. I need to see what happens when today’s version of me goes and finds some unknowns.