small thoughts from the chair about big things outside the room
Two men routinely sleep on the pavement outside my practise. Yesterday I saw them lying side by side wrapped together in a dirty cocoon of faded clothes. One side of their three-walled shelter was a branch from the palm tree, another was the wall, the third a Democratic Alliance poster...
Psychologists are usually sensibly clothed. Some are more stylish than others but their haberdashery is reliably demure with only occasional splashes of sartorial libido spilling over into brightly coloured socks, an eccentric waistcoat or outlandish hat. On this site, the doors of the perceptual wardrobe are thrown wide open and the shrunken bits are allowed to hang out.