Tuesday, October 7, 2008


These earthtones radiate a neon glow, and at the right angle, you can see the sun collide with skyscrapers and bridges in an attempt to reconcile with the way we breath. The bend breaks the way we walk in and out of this place, but not the way we stand. A vivid vision of life blends in with the cemetary scenery. Painted along the fence are the marks of past generations saying "make your move".

My feet are keeping a beat that my hands can't keep. The sounds of flickering streetlights and car alarms decide which streets to burn. And all at once, air becomes weightless, and my eyes wait on the green light to pass me by the motorcade of cars on the graveyard shift. Regardless of the time, we still feel early to our own demise.

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