Fairly certain that is Eames airport seating.
san diego, 2014
I feel vulnerable and prone to danger when I am walking around at night, even in my quiet, uneventful suburban neighborhood. Although I tell myself to not be so paranoid and that it is in my head, I cannot help feeling uneasy and unsafe. I hear my mom’s voice telling me that I should not walk home from work alone. I hear the teachers at my old college, informing students of attacks on young women making their way to their cars. I remember the violent attacks on women in my friend’s neighborhood that made her sleep out for weeks. I want to walk around at night without fearing for my safety or having scenarios of sexual assault and violence run through my head. I want to feel comfortable where I live, in the body I am in. Standing naked in the middle of a line of garages, as vulnerable as I could be, was both scary and exhilarating. It forced me to breathe in my fears for ten still seconds and recognize how consuming thoughts of rape culture and my vulnerability are, though they usually sit somewhere right below the surface, always there, always nagging, always reminding me of what can happen if I am not careful enough, not smart enough, not lucky enough.
― Short Term 12 (2013)
Grace: Why are you so nice to me?
Mason: It’s because you are the weirdest, most beautiful person that I’ve ever met in my whole entire life.