Oh, how I love to take the grand tour. So much so, I don't take two trains but four. Feet firmly on the floor for two hours or more. Free-loading a fast ride past traffic, I snap a few and the electrons flash like magic. Another memory.
On my way through Silver Spring, mesmerized by the walls and various things; covered in graffiti, all arful and dreamy ♥ In these winding alleys, a photographers fancy, lies the home to an astute artist as the dreamer once dreamed of his release. High on the walls, deep in the belly of the beast.
I look at the wall art as a raw expression. I fantasize of harsh, piddling repression of my city's youth and their artform. The streets and everything in between took this wall and made it mean what artists dream. A name, a place, a thing, a face. A prismatic depiction of pure chaos and havoc. I snap one and the electrons flash like magic. Another memory.
I should head back now as I'm packed full of insight and inspiration. A few hours after my adventurous nature took me on a ride through downtown Silver Spring. Seeking refuge under a taggers wing, I snapped a few quick memories and let them be.
Let them bask in their brilliant biographies, and I in mine.
Me and my photography.
Prose / Photography / Art
On my way through Silver Spring, mesmerized by the walls and various things; covered in graffiti, all arful and dreamy ♥ In these winding alleys, a photographers fancy, lies the home to an astute artist as the dreamer once dreamed of his release. High on the walls, deep in the belly of the beast.
I look at the wall art as a raw expression. I fantasize of harsh, piddling repression of my city's youth and their artform. The streets and everything in between took this wall and made it mean what artists dream. A name, a place, a thing, a face. A prismatic depiction of pure chaos and havoc. I snap one and the electrons flash like magic. Another memory.
I should head back now as I'm packed full of insight and inspiration. A few hours after my adventurous nature took me on a ride through downtown Silver Spring. Seeking refuge under a taggers wing, I snapped a few quick memories and let them be.
Let them bask in their brilliant biographies, and I in mine.
Me and my photography.
Prose / Photography / Art
0 comments:
Post a Comment