A while back the roof at our office fell in. It happened at night so no one was hurt but everyone got paranoid. Suddenly the roof, our stable friend we could rely on, was as shifting as the 1 hour parking spaces out front. Paranoia took hold of the staff as they began to doubt their personal safety. The roof looked precarious, and no part of the roof so dangerous as the part just above the beholders head.
So came the poles; five at first and then the rest. And because everyone insisted that they needed a pole near them, to protect them from what was obviously the next avalanche, they were marvellously placed so as to ensure that you couldn’t sit at you desk.
We now have the safest roof in the metro area, the sty will never fall over Mount Hawthorn.
We’ve gotten used to the poles now, and learned to live with them as if in a symbiotic relationship. They hold up our ceiling, and in return we give them life and culture.
A bit of art to liven up our lives, and remind us a poignant point. I figured that this site dedicated to my illustrations should include a tribute to my little friend. The first of all our art was a little man seen in the centre of this picture. I couldn’t get a clear image of him so below is a re-drawing of what he looks like. With all these poles, his point is aptly illustrated: