This is what started it all, just in case you were wondering, we discovered the leftovers from Nuit Blanche with a pile of books that had not seen the light of day since the separation. Not sure how old they are, my guess would be 2008, that was during the first break and the beginning of the long and winding road that seems to have no end. The hills are steep these days so it's nice to remind myself that there were times when the end was within my grasp, the distance to the goal does not change, merely your perspective makes it seem farther.
This was my guerrilla poetry, printed on cards and handed to random strangers in the middle of a dark cold night. Most assumed it was an ad and flipped it over searching for the closer only to be forced to wrap their mind around the unfamiliar concept of poetry for the sake of poetry. It was a great satisfaction, among the big budget of high brow art and influence, to find my own niche and make my statement whispered in the brisk November wind.
It's a great and timely reminder of what can be accomplished by sharing the positive and creating for the sake of creating.
This was my guerrilla poetry, printed on cards and handed to random strangers in the middle of a dark cold night. Most assumed it was an ad and flipped it over searching for the closer only to be forced to wrap their mind around the unfamiliar concept of poetry for the sake of poetry. It was a great satisfaction, among the big budget of high brow art and influence, to find my own niche and make my statement whispered in the brisk November wind.
It's a great and timely reminder of what can be accomplished by sharing the positive and creating for the sake of creating.
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