I’m constantly on a mission to prove that what I’m doing in this world is worth a damn (aren’t we all?). Not because I don’t get an overwhelming sense of accomplishment every time I create something I know is good, no. Mostly because other people “just don’t get it”.
Alright, fair enough.
But really, would I spend as much money as I am to learn how to be a better poet/writer at a university while working exhausting 8 hour shifts at a small, horrendously busy grocery store to pay the rent so I can continue going to said university if I didn’t think it was all worth it? Hell no. No, no.
And the other night, walking through a part of downtown Seattle ripped open with construction, I was reminded of that.
I wish I had a better camera on me that could give it more context but you know what? I kinda like it this way. This is probably a better depiction of the effect it had on me than if I described the scene in great detail.
So, yeah. Walking through Seattle at night, I see this across the street next to a construction zone and I read it outloud and I turn to my friend next to me and say “damn, how cool is this?!” and he says yes but I can tell he isn’t as psyched about it as I am and that’s okay. He doesn’t have to be. I am!
I don’t know who did this, I don’t even know if they would call it visual poetry, but it struck me as such. And in the midst of a summer that has dragged me through an emotional Inferno, when I feel as though I have no understanding of what I want or who I am anymore, it was nice to recognize a part of myself at an unlikely time and place.
Isn’t that what it’s all about?
watchtheFruits 