In the event of being born, I figure, everything is improvised. All or in part, one moves as if in a painting, whether in the Renaissance, in the twentieth century, or not. The gallery goers (who might be schoolkids for all I know) realize that place and time are unimportant. This thought is so intimate everyone thinks they had it themselves. Ultimately, only circumstances we notice are the thing: the horoscope, the canonization, the flight into Egypt. The high marble reliefs. The whole darned tableau. Being first is a cure for so many things.
"How'd you just appear like that?" "Easy. Word of mouth." "I've traveled all over the world and I've never seen someone do that before." "You haven't been around kids enough." "Nativity."