P@k~M@n

I was literally a starving artist in my early twenties, living in Taos, NM. The Pizza Hut had a tabletop Pac-Man located near the salad bar. I would pretend to be playing, not having a quarter to spare, waiting. With the lunch crowd at its peak, I would step up to the salad bar and steal the breadsticks. Peanut butter on breadsticks was my main fare for what seemed like forever. A decade later, Tony’s Pizza was a half block away from my studio in Santa Fe. Sometimes I would play on the tabletop Pac-Man with my dog Elvis at my side while we waited for our to-go order. We all measure success differently. I remember the feeling of wellbeing, leaving with two orders of spaghetti with extra meatballs and quarters to spare.