Dialogues Between Strangers - Entering a Gallery in a Summer of War

Men who converse, who weave relationships, seem almost like friends just for a few minutes. It happens, even between strangers. It happens, even in a summer of war.
There are seemingly humble professions that unexpectedly open up a world for you. Think of the cab driver; he is at a strange crossroads. Almost all the time, a stranger suddenly meets up with another stranger when they come on board. If the ride lasts longer than five minutes, they talk about their limitations and virtues and tell their stories. Everything happens spontaneously. And within these stories there are often families, children, one's frustrations and dreams. Absolutely unexplored universes that offer themselves in an unpredictable way, maybe even for half an hour and then suddenly disappear, permanently. A bill, maybe a little change changes hands nothing else, no time, no space to think. All sudden and random, like a candle that goes out quickly. One of the last confidential outposts, as were once the tailor, the bartender and the shoe shiner, while the barber still somehow maintains his boundaries, offering himself to the intimacy of a relationship with an extended shave or a prolonged shampoo. A dialogue that is less casual, more routine but that, in those minutes, seems to reset differences and time to zero. 
The role of the gallerist also often retains this mysterious fascination. One enters, especially in summer, a more or less familiar space, drawn by a work or, perhaps, an exhibition.  A dialogue between strangers begins, emphasizing that vibrant color, the harmony of the composition, or the historical period of the artwork. And, perhaps, after some further reflection, the red sticker is placed , the stigma of the purchase, attached to a work that, often, knows only the logic of emotion, nothing else. 
Thus the sociality of men makes its way, slowly, building steps in life that then dissipate into nothingness, without regrets or nostalgia. Knowing that, behind the door of destiny, there always lurks someone whose name, personality and, inevitably, secret history we often do not know.