there will be more of these soon; perhaps with their very own site (and who knows? (ruzz and i might know) but this may be the first post on that site)
I am a person who loves chaos. The splash of a rock breaking the surface of the water, releasing thousands, millions of tiny droplets in its wake. The wind gathering up a tube of dust and flinging miniscule bits of earth everywhere it goes. Humanity without laws or strictures or external controls. There is beauty in those moments of uncontrol (despite their quantumly ineluctable controls), which are akin to the me I know more intimately than you know you.
Yet I revel in the lines of your city. That urban pseudo-order. The simple geometry between point A and B or point ZZ and DED. They’re everywhere, those lines, in lampposts and street paint and benches and blades of grass — so carefully groomed and sculpted — crafted by you to hold back the chaos that haunts you so.
Take a step to the left of right, though, genuflect before the altar of your concrete, step up on the bench or just take a seat on the parallel lines and your order breaks down. The same lines criss and cross and crass and cress and cruss in ways they didn’t a moment before, and their order breaks into disorder. Everything on the verge of decay. All on the verge of breakdown. Nothing you can create, no order you can compose can hold back the chaos that is born of birth. But fuck I love that you try.
stephen avenue, calgary, alberta