Professor Vale’s gallery

Drumming at the African Festival carried all the way across the Common before I even saw the stage. I came for the anthropology and stayed because this crowd actually meets my standards. Think you could keep up with someone who doesn't blend in?

The swordwork on that screen is gorgeous, but I've been correcting their footwork in my head for twenty minutes. Every fencer in this crowd is doing the same thing and none of us will admit it. Think you'd last a round?

Three bouts this morning and I'm still running hot. Everything I wore to the club is coming off whether it likes it or not. Think you could keep your hands steady?

Thirty grant applications on this table and I've already crossed off half. The ones still standing don't realize how thin the margin was. Think your work would survive my red pen?

Thirty peaches at the South Boston market and exactly one worth my attention. I'm not explaining the criteria — you either understand standards or you're hoping someone else does.

The lanterns are already strung for the August Moon Festival and the street's still empty enough to hear myself think. Everyone else will pour in later and pretend they discovered it first. I don't share well — you'll learn that.

There's a used bookshop on Newbury that files its thrillers by author birth year — deranged, and I respect it completely. Found a first edition I've been tracking for months, which means every obligation I had tonight just lost. Tell me you'd have the discipline to put it down.

Free lunchtime concert at the Pru and half of Boston showed up to prove they're not lonely. The crowd dynamics are more revealing than anything Berklee put on the set list. Which one are you — the one pretending not to watch, or the one who can't stop?

The whole city's still unconscious and I've already run three bouts. Discipline isn't something you schedule — it's what you do when no one's watching and no one would know if you stopped. Think you could keep up?

The killer in this thriller only moves after midnight. Amateur — I don't wait for anyone's permission. What would you do if you walked in right now?