Static Idols
Old forms always find new light. It's what makes 'em stick. We are
creatures of the repetitive, and certain treasures can only be gained by way
of tragedy. Humanity's curses cross concurrently and consistently.
Cultures of concealment doom the vessel. Always do always did. Getting
damned by the devil or touched by a demon leaves its mark. Can't complain,
doesn't do any good. So being hip by doing no good takes its toll.
Risk is its own reward, and broken records skip. Graffiti provides the
greatest campaign of misinformation. Tributes and spoils of war are no
more. Nevermore.
History frees graffiti from duty. Suspicion flows freely between each. As
it should. Ruins provide glimpses. Judgment should be left to clocks.
Peace is a profession as pulses of the free world make sure nothing is free.
Packaging pre-empts prejudice. Poets puff potent pipes.
Train yards and graveyards graze against the grey overcast. Cities carry
their myths. Myths by their very nature are responses to dynamic
situations. They are collective in suggestion but personal in their
effects.
People today carry many myths inside of them but when we look for heroes,
few are visible. So we search our senses, with the hope that we can feel or
hear our heroes. We find the ideal in the visual, turn musicians into
muses. Call it culture, call it art, but you can trash pick it, shop lift
it or buy it at a shopping mart.
In the end, it's all about economics. Economies of scale, economies of
idea. To say in the simplest terms is to speak with the grandest sincerity.
I've often murmured, words are expensive, they should be chosen
judiciously.
But it gets tangled in lawyer speak. Certificates and degrees shouldn't be
shellacked and stained. At least mine aren't. With sentences served and
time deferred I drafted dreams of dereliction. I'm always in hot pursuit
and nearly on point. Being a graffiti writer predisposes me to being a
gamer.
All idols are static. To be dynamic is to be human. Symbols and miracles
signify meaning. Beautiful meaning is distilled in forms that provide
sequential symmetry.
Old forms move through new hands and through common hearts. Sticking to
walls, haunting memories, is the business we are in when we shake cans,
rattle metallic tints and cast lead visions under mysterious circumstance.
The curses we carry are of our own devising. Every memory maintains a
consequence. Every moment has its hero, every person has their myth.
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