These days, I'm either all chill or none at all.
The center is gone, like somebody licked out the middle of the Oreo.
Maybe I'm becoming more of a nihilist; either everything matters, or nothing does.
I'm inclined towards the latter.
On a less bombastic note, I witnessed some beautiful art this week.
First, at Retail Therapy, new work by artist/poet/raconteur Philipp.
I met new people and talked art and old books and drank red wine and admired the pieces, happy/sad that my pal's work is now out of my price range.
Then, on to Dendroica, to meet up with new friend Noel, a mad talented cartoonist and poet. This was a rambunctious gathering of cartoonists who got their start in the '90's, as nerdy, lovable, talented and provocative a group as I've met in awhile.
And I realized belatedly that my pal Indu was also showing on the Hill at Bluecone.
For all the kvetching I do about Seattle losing its soul, maybe I'm wrong, maybe the time for breaking shit and tearing things apart is still upon us.
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