The (hand)writing on the wall
The heat wave just killed hundreds of people and marine wildlife en mass in the Pacific Northwest, huge animal die-offs are on the rise everywhere and here it’s too often cold and wet for what is Summer in Central Europe. Or overly warm, as in a psychotic alternation slowly destroying any possibility of harvesting what might be. It’s hard to imagine what is already feeling like in the global south.
We don't need no loony, loaned, toxic positiveness here. What we might have locally is an honest poetic communication between strangers, that is, coming from collapsing bridges along disillusioned façades and some closed doors. It builds solidarity.
Anonymous collaboration,
I call it Pushbuttons & Hearts
I can't celebrate as long as I live in Babylon
Still smiling at this one called Where!
The black corner frame had been left unfinished hours before,
while remaking erased calligraphy art beside
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