[“Human” – Rag’n’Bone Man]
This is an image of my favorite wall in Fishtown. It’s at the corner of Hancock St. and Cecil B. Moore Ave. Whenever I have one of my lovely couch surfing evenings with my Fishtown friends, I make a habit of parking nearby so that I can watch and appreciate the artistic changes over time. I am a close follower of Philly street artists. Unlike murals (as much as I love those too), wheatpaste posters, plaster installations, and stickers are more at the mercy of the elements. These art pieces are readily subject to destruction and are therefore, largely, temporary. For that I appreciate them all the more. Not only do I appreciate them for their short-lived nature, but I also admire how they subtly beautify and funkify the ordinary into something worth noting. Something extraordinary. Mail boxes, defunct telephone booths, crumbling walls, chain link fences, bus stops, etc. They all benefit from these little accents created by artists who are truly talented and enthusiastic about their craft.
Continue reading “Human”
[“I Ain’t Done” – Louis Barabbas & The Bedlam Six]
*I should have posted this earlier, but since this is my birth-month I hope you kind people will allow me a pass. It’s been a busy week in the most spectacular way possible.
Ladies and gents, I am now 28 years old. As of Monday, 3/19/18, I have entered my 29th year of life. My dudes, I am getting old. But, as they say, age is just a number right? Just an arbitrary counting system to assign a numerical value and therefore more coherent concept to the passage of time and, outside of the body’s obvious physical trek, upon each human’s progress through existence. “Growing old is mandatory and growing up is optional” as they say but there has to be some sort of comfortable balance I can reach, right? Somewhere between young/feckless and old/immovable.
Continue reading “I Ain’t Done (Being Young)*”
[“Elizabeth” – Frank Sinatra]
So a dream has to end
When it’s real
Dressed in memories
You are what you used to be
Continue reading “Elizabeth”
I feel as though I can be comfortable with the expectations I have set for myself this year. Last year didn’t kill me, so if that is my base line, I at least know I can survive this one given nothing actually, physically, disastrous happens (I am currently knocking on every form of wood I can reach). I have said the purpose of life is to survive it, but that was admittedly during one of my darker moments. Right now, I can see with the foggy realization, the general though occasionally begrudging acceptance that despite the difficulty, the purpose of life is to live it—with some damn VIGOR where possible.
The tragedies of last year are of the past, I am clinging to them as a bad dream, lest I forget all together, but I now intend to live with some kind of intention after a really rough six months (at least, you know, until all the enthusiasm wears off and everyone leaves the gym again—kidding, mostly). It was all a bad dream (sorry for bastardizing the words, Biggie), it’s now time to wake up.
Continue reading “All Will Be Well”
Don’t Worry, I Won’t Be Long…
Today is our wedding anniversary. Were it not for yesterday marking three months since our separation, we would have been married two years as of today. What is three months? Long enough, apparently, for an individual world to toss about like a boat in a tempest and still not find equilibrium. Three months is a quarter of a year, one eighth of my marriage. We were together for seven years, friends for three longer than that. Three months may seem like nothing until you factor in the finality… The fact that each day adds to a week, each week adds to a month, and each month leads to a year. In three more months, it will be six, half a year… The thing that was my whole world is just gone, it’s an ineffable feeling to conceptualize. I am astonished by how seemingly slowly time passes, until it’s of the past and then I wonder where it’s gone.
Because of this anniversary, everything is shades of blue today. Not happy, periwinkle blue or deep, lusty cobalt… the blue of haze and sadness. It’s not even a good, thematic blue that complements the musical genre. Or an adorable dog from a children’s show. This blue is dull and characterless. Unfortunately, though, its lack of character is still all encompassing and eye catching in its grungy hue. It has stained my world and made it dingy – incapable of any sparkle (not the pansy vampire kind). Worst of all, this blue has a liquid quality, leaking through the cracks around each door I try to close in an attempt to hold it off. Continue reading “Exeunt/Stay With Me Baby”