Crave the Little Cracks
A Jazz Club I went to had painted cracks on the wall.
You can’t fake authenticity, and you can’t fake another vision. There’s nothing clearer than that, and that too is an authentic vision.
Distinct memory from elementary school when they defined paradox. I can’t seem to find the definition as it was written, but it was along the lines of “to hold two conflicting ideas as true”.
When I lived in the Bay Area for school, I took the BART when i was homesick. this part of my life where I would have spent at least an hour had hit me with the Irish Goodbye (love the irish btw), and left me with this shell of either walking or biking to classes. What to do when the commute disappears? What to do with all the unprocessed emotions. I am supposed to feel removed, humbled before I get anywhere. Where is Brecht’s alienation effect for real life? (spoiler alert we figured it out eventually, was hard)”
I always felt attached to the subway. It’s hard not to. And it’s so fun watching the younger generations garner the same intense interest, even if it doesn’t last. What is this magical system, that becomes no less magical the more you learn about it? Why can’t you put your finger on it? Why can’t the words you spout, the syllables you trip over accurately paint the rawness of it.
A jazz club i went to had painted cracks on the walls!
The best part of living in a manufactured environment is how every square inch of any part I interact with, or don’t even interact with was carefully constructed, designed or maintained by someone else. This is part of their life and it’s part of yours, of course. But my favorite part is how we unconsciously transform it. The dust from the skin we leave behind, the grime we tracked from the shoes we wore in the frozen section of the grocery store where we stepped on a dried frozen blueberry.
You can’t fake authenticity. and you can’t paint on those cracks and peel the paint and then think people won’t sense it.
Sometimes I fall away from myself in the subway. I look at the ads a little too hard, or maybe not hard enough. They scream at me, they scream clearly, and it’s loud! i could see myself overwhelmed. I look at the graffiti, the “NEW EONS” stickers, i try really hard to listen to their screams at least how i imagine they want to be heard, i can never know if im hearing them correctly, but i figure you can’t ever know that. all i can do is hear.
TOP DOG LAW! YOU WANT A LAWYER THAT BITES! DO YOU HAVE A PLAN? THIS IS REAL LIFE! DO YOU HAVE A PLAN? I HAVE A PLAN! THAT PLAN IS CALLING THE DOG!
we make your dreams come true! Grand Prospect Hall.
call carmel and be on time! number 9, Nationwide!
It’s crazy how much some money can make the pain go away.
You can’t fake authenticity, and you can paint on those cracks, and you can peel that paint, and know the art you are painting is yours. and distinct.
No matter what you do, can I ask that you scream at me? Scream at me like you want me to hear you. or you can whisper. I would like you to whisper actually. I guess i don’t have a say in the matter, I hope you like doing what you do I guess. I hope i can taste a little bit of the reality you live in that pastry cream. i hope i can tune into the beautiful frequency of yours through the way you move the fan from directly facing the two elderly folk who just sat down to reconnect. I hope i chuckle with you at the joke you wrote in sharpie on the ballast that’s set for demo this week.
I won’t ask anymore, and i love the crack you painted on, i think i see what you are going for, but i don’t think i will ever, and i just love it. good job, hehe. great!