Thursday, 26 January 2006 | Progress

A few people have asked me how my exhibit is going. I never know how to answer that, really, because I haven't been spying on it, and even if I did, I have a feeling I would simply see a room containing photographs and people eating.

The opening, though: I can answer that. It went well. I was worried, in part because I have host anxiety and a need to make sure everyone is happy, and in part because the owner of the restaurant was so generous with her place. She gave me the main floor to fill, placed several complimentary bottles of wine on one of the tables, and asked that I let her know when I needed something. At that point the event hadn't started and the restaurant was virtually empty, and I felt suddenly compelled to stuff the place with bodies if for no other reason than to not disappoint her. She seemed so hopeful and faithful, in a well-meaning but terrifying way.

Lots of my friends and a few others showed up, and we ate dumplings and talked until my face muscles hurt. I didn't start to relax or have fun until it was nearly over, when I knew that it had turned out okay. I had retroactive fun, which is plenty fine.

When I was originally choosing what photos to hang, I'd considered putting up a series of barbershop photos, but instead decided on street portraits taken in Brooklyn. I'd forgotten about that switch until, during the course of the evening, one of my barbershop subjects unwittingly wandered in.