"untitled" (found photograph)
keep art alive ~ artist unknown
keep art alive ~ artist unknown
"we never know what it is we’ve got,
until the cold city wind blows it all in our face,
with a humbling disgrace.
how do you deal with a story like this?
we’re writing our names in the lives,
of the ones we miss."
until the cold city wind blows it all in our face,
with a humbling disgrace.
how do you deal with a story like this?
we’re writing our names in the lives,
of the ones we miss."
you've changed (video) ~ bettie serveert
i have been pondering over city street maps, spreading them out on the floor, tracing the street corners and intersections with my fingertips. there are coffee spilled stains at spots that may have marked a historical marker, or some kind of set in the middle of traffic city park. i don't mind though, i think the signs that something has been touched are often the most beautiful.
i dream of those city streets almost every night.
it is almost as if i'm missing something i've yet to know. or, perhaps i have known this, somewhere in the back pages of my own scrawled story. some days i'm not even sure why i keep writing it, singing it, sharing it - some days i feel so lost in the crowd of everyone, and no one - some days i feel so invisible.
this morning, with my cup of coffee in hand, i can't help but wish i was on one of those stained spots in a city somewhere.
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