Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Little moments of Graffiti


Above from Seattle, WA. Sometimes I feel like I could walk by such a snippet anywhere, though. Part of me wants to. The side of a brick building, delapidated fencing, small moments of graffiti both obvious and inert. There's something about the illusion we have when we are walking down the street. The version of the world in our head and the version right in front of us. There's something to the level of importance we give to one or the other; how we pick and choose what to accent and what to ignore.

Sometimes my friends and I say that America is a third world country. We have a lot of stuff, a lot of money, and a lot of self-esteem. Really, though, what we have is the version in our head. The version that delicately leaves out the ones left behind. The buildings falling apart. The little corners of not-so-clean. We talk a big game, but there are still so many just not cared for, or cared about.

It's so easy to walk down the street and never let these things come into your head. It's also just as easy to focus only on them and get lost in the self-pity and dispair. What's hard is the balance between, where you know how to look for what should be there, and also see the little moments of graffiti. Look at the little dents in the perfection, that show us there's still a need for hope.


Saturday, August 9, 2008

Pm/Phto: Road

The other day I saw a woman
walking down the street in one-inch heels
meandering into the road
like it wasn't anywhere special
like there was no word 'road'
and it wasn't a place of its own

I was angry at the time,
she was in a place that the car I was in
belonged to. I was in a car that I
belonged to.

Now I wonder if she's one person
pulled away just enough
to lope over the asphalt yard
and not even think
about the car she belongs to.