Another parallel

I walked through the streets full of fiveoclock Madrid seething with twilight in shivered cubes of aguardiente redwine gaslamp-green sunset pink tileochre eyes lips red cheeks brown pillar of the throat climbed on the night train at the Norte station without knowing why

I’m so tired of violets
Take them all away

the shattered iridescent bellglass the carefully copied busts the architectural details of the grammar of styles



Now this is a weird one.

I’ve been well aware of an author for a while, but haven’t felt ready.

Queue weeks of madness driving weekends of exhaustion and suddenly the time was right.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Dos Passos.



Apart from that, I’ve been roped into having input on cultural policy. Sure, I know my yakult from my tzatziki, but what the fuck do I know about creativity. Ten or more years in commercially creative environments (read as: dealing with complete fuckwits with absolutely no clue who feel their best input can be given via negating the majority of proposals in front of them) has jaded me, for I can’t see the point in dolling out funding to potential artists.

Infrastructure, to support and encourage development, of anything - winner.

Funding that reinvents existing wheels and supports services available more cost effectively, efficiently and with better return to the wider community - Fuck. Off.

Protectionist policy has never worked outside a vacuum - so why on earth would it work for potential artists. Why would it work for potential businesses. Get out there. Create your thing. Make your piece. Fuck it up entirely but learn as you’re doing any of them.

But that’s me. What’s yours though - can creativity be created?