WHERE’S YOUR HEAD AT ADAM ANT
The room was full of balloons. A bouquet of balloons, sold nowadays like helium-filled, high-tech clusters that cling to the ceiling. A bundle of mail was strewn on the table counter, next to a cheesecake and a carafe of juice. Most of it remained unopened, but several drawings sat propped against the envelopes.
March 1, 1983