hiding number 1

Friday, March 15
Barrington, Harvey, Morris, Queen.
12:00pm to 12:20pm

This is a description of my first hiding event - for a general description please see the post called hiding.
I had seen this hiding spot as I biked by at night. It appeared to be a bank of bushes that were trimmed into cube-like forms about 3 1/2 feet high and spaced about a foot apart. These were planted along the sidewalk to mark off a boundary with the parking lot on the other side. When I had biked by I thought that hiding between the bushes would break ulp their uniformity. I did not notice at the time that the parking lot served a building belonging to the Canadian government. Nor did I think about the nature of hiding in bushes that divided a parking lot from a sidewalk, namely, being exposed on both sides.

So, on the day of the mission, dressed in long-underwear and warm outerwear for the cold, armed with a clock so I could meet the agreement to hide between 12 noon and 12:20 I waited by the parking lot until I heard the canon indicating it was time.
terrified, I assumed my position, curling up into a sitting position between the two closest bushes, their branches pushing in to support my back and crushed up against my knees. My mind was racing with the realization that I looked entirely suspicious and pathetic. I could be a suicide bomber and my little electric clock could be the detonator for a bomb (I don't know what service the government building provided, but I was afraid). A car pulled out of the parking lot, I felt sure they were going to call security or the police. I looked at the clock: 2 minutes had passed. I tried to concentrate on the leaves of the bushes and to relax into my sitting position. Why was I doing this? I needed to be prepared if the police or security arrested me. I am an artist, I am doing research into the nature of public spaces. right, ok. I heard people walking and driving by and tried to keep my head down and my eyes straight ahead - I was hiding, I was becoming an architectural object, I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong. Sounds seemed loud and threatening. I felt like everyone who passed could see me and had to choose whether or not to be worried for or about my strange behaviour.
I heard footsteps approaching and felt certain that the police were here. A male voice said softly, "are you ok, bro?" I looked up, and registered a man, not a policeman, a creepy looking tall man with long hair, sunglasses, a fedora, a trench coat, his purple-pink skinned hand swollen and dry from the cold wind, holding a cane. I think he was wearing cowboy boots and tight black jeans, I don't remember, I just remember my instantaneously appraisal of his appearance and the way I judged him - I was doing something strange, but I responded to his concern by seeing him as not proper, as creepy and different from me. I saw him with my fear. I realized this after he left. Anyways, after seeing him (in this horrible, judgemental, negative way) I registered that he was saying something to me and knew that it was something nice, not threatening. I smiled and quickly said yes, I'm an artist. As his concern wained I said genuinely, thank you for asking. He walked away and I tucked my head back down on my chest. I felt so embarrassed for arousing his genuine concern for unneccessary reasons. Art is such a fraud. Why am I behaving like I need help when I'm just hiding, I'm toying with peoples emotions, I'm a sociopath. I felt so bad and still so scared, and I was getting cold. I still was worried that the police would come.
At 12:20 I got up, cold, exhausted and dazed, glad to become invisible again.