THE CROWD The thrill of joining the pack. The caravan. Individual movement defines the contour of one person's experience, yet it is also shaped by movement in and through the crowd and so, it evolves as a dance of individual/collective, private/public, one and many---united as one. The sense of anonymity in driving. The physical body masked by the outer body of the automobile. The sense of touching the crowd (driving as coordinated group movement), yet maintaining the insulation of one's autonomous, private, individual realm. The automobile serving as skin or armor. (Sport utility vehicle, a sexy sports car---different kinds of armor touching armor). Isolation. Ultimately, though you feel part of the crowd of drivers, you are alone, not touching anyone, speaking only through the movement of your vehicle and the indication of that movement via electronic signals. Though you gesture and utter words to other drivers, you are mute and they are mute to you; sealed off from one another by the layers of steel and glass between you. The both comforting and disturbing state of being insulated from the crowd of pedestrians. Not having a face-to-face encounter with the diversity of the crowd. Not being exposed. The car as cuticle. The crowd of drivers as constantly growing, discharging and dissipating. It's always out there waiting for you to join, but like a river, it is never the same. The danger of contact. The irony of driving as an expression of the desire to touch yet, to make contact---collision---is potentially fatal. The implicit trust extended to utter strangers whose one false move (or your's) could kill you. The communal sense of relief in witnessing the accident, yet not being involved. The sudden carpe diem felt in the ability to continue driving in safety to your destination. The crowd of commuters. More stable than the crowd of miscellaneous, transient drivers. Police monitoring the scene, drivers monitoring the police.