Monday, May 19, 2014

Here's the url in case you can't make it to New York tonight.

We are as grass.
That’s a metaphor.

Sleep knits us up, all our cares.
That’s a metaphor.

Sleep is practicing for death.
But if it’s in a safe place
That’s not too exposed
And if you have enough to eat
And if it’s not too cold.
That’s not a metaphor.
Then sleep is just a bless├ęd fact.

When the monsters of the home
Turf you out
That’s one thing.

If the monsters round you up
And cut you down
That’s many many things,
All lain out parallel like blades of grass. 

Black water stands for death.
Shrouds of white mean identity become ghost.
Written on your knuckles is the cause:
HATE.  Don’t forget.

All your long bones growing,
If they aren’t cut down too soon,
If you can find enough to eat
And it’s not too cold
And it’s a safe place
Not too exposed,
So the sleep is a dark water
But only for renewal
So you can rise again
To find a place to sleep tonight.

-- Mary Scriver

A bunch of boys off the street, responsive to music, devoted to technology, given a bit of encouragement and some clues and some software, make a video to show in Harlem, New York City, one of the great arts neighborhoods in the world.  I'm very anxious to hear how people reacted.  Did they mock the romanticism of it?  Disbelieve that boys did it?  Sign them up for Hollywood?  I KNOW what they did.  I've been watching for years.

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