I am a collector of words. And recently I've found a new pool to collect from. For the past few months I've been using alleyways as my primary route for making my way through the urban landscape. Alleys are fascinating spaces, and ones we oft overlook. The alley is a channel for movement and transport; social and economic transactions occur here; it is a space where waste is discarded of, and also where plants and tiny gardens are grown; for some it is home, and for others it is not noticed at all. The alley is versatile, colourful, curious - and for some of us, extremely visually compelling. In the hours I've spent in alleys as of late, I've been particularly drawn to the written words found here. There are whole conversations being had in hallways of the city we seldom walk through. So I've been collecting these them; without really being sure what I was going to do with this pile of words. And today I started playing, stringing them together, writing simple poems from the prose found here. Here is the first of what I hope to be an ongoing series: | found in the alley #01 Remove tempta tion. Resistance is fertile. Don't limit yourself. Adapt; be vulnerable. Do not hate ... just love. And then humans, awake. |
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