dynamics of the subway
each note from the instruments is represented by a geometric shape in the animation; while these shapes move in sync with the song, they also form the parts that create the subway itself.
Despite a conversation I had not too long ago with a friend of mine, and the metaphor associated with trains in the conversation, I think (just from learning and observing) it sometimes seem a little safer on the train. But sometimes - safety and the concept behind it, doesn’t always have [your] best interest at heart.
Sometimes it’s best to simply - remove yourself completely away from the train. Allow the associated risks to run their course.
You can reach your dreams….
Just don’t let them go to your head.
And make sure there’s some form of transportation to spark your inspiration.
like with me.
I was imagining myself having a seizure or asthma attack or something. Something that would make me non-responsive. Like - the death part of the life or death situation. And I would have a medical examiner’s card on me or some type of flashing sensor around my neck that would read….
In case of emergency, plug headphones into ears firmly and play any variation of Steve Reich, Philip Glass, or Terry Riley.
And if it happened at my job, I wouldn’t want them to find that sensor.
I’d hate to be resuscitated and open my eyes to those fucktard ass cunt faces.
Enjoy your fucking weekend.
"Then every photographer desires to have that little SLR implanted behind their cornea. Maybe if I had at least that I would be able to capture the light rail pulling off. The two boys sitting, waiting. The skate boarders. The ants that allowed greed to consume their beings by all becoming trapped on the sticky sweetness of a Jolly Rancher. The drunkard across from me being splashed, unbeknownst to him, by sunlight on the other side of the train.
The tall buildings and the people canoeing. The sticky of the bueer and beer can rolling down the southbound side of the train. Oh but photography can’t capture how intoxicating and sour the alcohol smelled. Mouth parted on the driver of the 33. And then there’s no real way to capture the STALE. The smell of sweating and all day. The #3 smelled of all day. Crowded from stop number one. The sexy ass underarmour with the big guns. Three pairs of shorts and still revealed his underarmour. (smile)
The sleepy eyes. Her name was Renee. Renee nodded like she was high. Fucked up and high. The blackberry next to me checking CNN mobile for Michael Jackson updates. He put his world on pause for a few Zs. That old stink by the back door should move. The bus would move faster. I traveled with a scowl. Six Pianos by Steve Reich banging. My nose, annoyed. My ears fucking without a nut. And then I swear, I’m snow white because I see baby turtledoves, squirrels, cardinals, rabbits, and jogging Robin redbreasts everyday while walking home.
I’m going to take a 20 minute shower and think about everything I saw.”
-excerpt from journal