My
most faithful act is every Sunday I walk 2.5 miles
to a music practice
space on Westlake Ave, just west of the
lake. Along the way I might see
something like this, but it barely registers as I
keep a pretty good pace
because despite usual best
intentions I often run the risk of arriving
one
minute late. But then I find the picture later and
wonder all over again:
who did this and what were they thinking? I
imagine an intense
late
night session, seeing
the world in a unique way, trying
to express it.
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