4796. I still recall the day I was
exposed to this illness and the appearance of its first symptoms after a short
incubation. It was ten years ago and I was assisting with the installation of a
show in a gallery.
4797. A young girl came in, about
ten years old; it was her habit to stop by the gallery on the way home from
school. She was acquainted with every one in the gallery since she was the
daughter of a well-known painter.
4798. Although young, she was nevertheless very familiar with
the ways of galleries and often entertained us with her art knowledgeable
banter. I was standing next to a long wooden extension ladder that was lying
flat on the floor when she came up to me and asked very matter-of-factly,
"Whose piece is this?"
4799. She was asking about the ladder on the floor and it
immediately struck me that it was very much like a work of art in every way. It
lay on the floor at just the right angle to the walls, but even more, it
expressed in metaphor, my feelings about my life at that time.
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