It amazes me the way the mall- a universally generic zone has the ability to revive my spirits. I suppose though the magnificence of the experience is heightened by moments of consumerist frenzy and their aftermath. Walking out of a store, bag/s in hand connects me to its shiny streets and neon glow and I am compelled forward to the next meaningless, consuming encounter. Acts of display and consumption are central to mall culture and there is a consequent feeling of belonging generated by these. Having no money at the shopping centre does feel pretty empty and shop assistants suddenly become vile beasts clawing at my skull (I guess this is always true) when an exchange can't be done.
Strange parallels exist then between this space and the Baroque courts I am currently studying. Funnily enough I purchased totally pointless little receptacles with louis chairs printed on them without even thinking about it. I guess malls make me vacuous too! Oops.
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