I stumbled upon this bizarre, misshaped gallery as I was covering ground throughout Mitte. Something about the sterileless environment seemed inviting. Maybe it was the crate of apples in the middle of the entrance or what I assume was the owners personal lap dog laying perfectly in the walk way. But this was no country living quarters. Portraits of nude women lined the musky walls, giving attention to the various shapes shaved into their pubic region. Making my way past the stars, hearts and lightning bolts, my heart jolted when I nearly dropped though a hole in the floor. Unsure if this stairway was off limits, I found myself drawn in by the faint glow welcoming me in from the basement. What could have turned into a deleted scene from the Shining, was actually morphed into a beautifully tranquil room. I was admiring the classic art when I saw the piece of furniture out of the corner of my eye. I stared at this chair for about 15 minutes. Envious of its stature and presence and the way the light magnified the detail. I envisioned myself as part of this picture. For just a moment. And then I left.
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