Wednesday, October 19, 2011


You know the way you might see a human face in a pattern? Well, I see patterns in human faces and sometimes I see human faces in those patterns and patterns in those human faces that contain even more human faces that I can see patterns in and. . . well, you can see where this is going can’t you? You’re seeing a pattern here.


I met a man who said he had a photographic memory for human faces. ‘We’ve met before’, he declared ‘you were about six years of age but I remember the beard clearly’. I told the man I doubted his photographic memory for human faces but didn’t doubt his ability to talk utter faeces.


I can never seem to recall my favourite human faces. Parts of these faces might come to me in flashes (the mouth, the forehead, the shape of the eyes) but nothing joins up in my mind. Then I’ll see the face again and my heart will jump in the air and click its heels. ‘That’s it!’ my mind will exclaim as everything comes together. And then this favourite face of mine will turn to look at me and then the face’s owner will scream because it’s 3 a.m. and I’m staring in their bedroom window and I’m wearing a gasmask.

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