first was (i think i've written this already) an online journal, 'cause i was invited to, and i like sound and vision, and words, so it was called desired results, and then, (i've written this too) i moved to another neighborhood, and it was loud, so i created 365 days on 21st street, which lasted longer than a year of knots.
went to see a movie by myself; walking thru lively 16th st bart; abundance only found in the good ol' usa: overflowing fruit stands, gossiping girls, people you're not supposed to make eye contact with, and always, it's freer here. original location. anyhow, i love the liveliness. went to the littel roxie to see you're killing me susana, which is so good. and it's a gem of a theater, so go fucking see a movie there.
walked there, first time setting foot on alcatraz. first images, seagull, graffiti from the native americans in the 60's, this is our land. freedom. home.
the exhibit was about freedom. large metal wings made of recycled solar stove panels. lego portraits of prisoners of conscience. and the artist. house arrest. one wonders about what is so threatening about telling the truth.
also, postcards to inmates, and porcelain petals in toilet. the noble art of finding beauty in the mundane. and dragons, intricate, inspiration.
since then the topic of freedom has been in the back of my mind. where is it? riding a bicycle. in the breath. in a lover's arms.
have you ever felt needed?