A cellular lift
Lost ones pulling at my dreams filling me with their words that I won’t hear again. So discarding the everyday concerns, an allergy to the seemingly banal and meaningless everyday chatter, I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY.
In raw times, the longing for an honest essential connection, art with a serious and sincere engagement with the world. To be looked in the eye and have someone tell you:
“I know. Its ok ”
Bill Douglas, David Foster Wallace and Werner Herzog. A strong arm to take you.
And then. I find a copy of anarchist letterpress journal The Cunningham Amendment there waiting for me, when I go home at lunchtime to take the dog out.
Enough beauty, wit and thought in these pages to give me a cellular lift, and make me want to weep with joy.
