I’m watching a freight now, headed North to Who Knows Where. It carries tank cars with chemicals, empty refuse receptacles, plain box cars, one of which bears a stunning fresco of graffiti. (We could write about how creating beauty in this culture is an act of vandalism. That begs the question, “What is all that stuff in the museums then?”)
South bound #89 The Palmetto passes through, bound for Savannah. I have a private fantasy of a certain woman in Savannah boarding that train Northbound for a clandestine tryst, dirty, sweaty liaison, purging our bodies of the potential energy stored too long.
I want to drink the coffee I brewed. And just sit some more,wondering when J will return.
Lol. Well said. I’ve seen some amazing graffiti in San Francisco. Truly breathtaking. And I’ve been bored to bits in museums with their curated to death, sterile and boring installations. While art is subjective, those “in the know” are pretentious at best. I was more mesmerized by the last beautiful sunset than the last trip to the museum.
Yeah. Aesthetics is a philosophical discipline the larger culture either ignores or n e elects outright. We admire the sunset🌇 because of our hunger for beauty, just as we admire the nude. Our art and our music are driven by emotion, rather than our need for order.
We demonize order, we equate order with totalitarianism, unfairly.
There is a lot to be said. It is late. I’m hurting,lower back and legs. Glad you stopped by and read. ❤
Sleep well. I hope your pain. Subsides. 💤💋
Thank you, Boss Lady