where the writers are
Seen on the Street
5 7 09 Tommi NYC and after 035.jpg

August 12


Seen on the Street


Sometimes graffiti improves a place, other times it degrades it.  I now wonder; is this defined by the breaking or breaching of public norms?  Or is it built from the intent of the artist/perpetrator?  Possibly the pedestrian traffic or the light of day determine the difference between art and recalcitrance.  What if all these factors flashing like a neon kaleidoscope facilitated what this all really means?  What if it all signifies nothing other than yet another way for me to entertain my brain while avoiding work?  I guess I better get back to the spray cans I have a wall to cover.



(this was sent to me this morning and I think it goes nicely with this reading) .com/embed/23bA_5yadxs


Open your mind to unusual collaboration






The dream sobriety I envision,

The fantasy recovery I mentally construct,

Blows out to sea as so much mist

In the face of actual life.


Setting out sports teams, which don’t exist

Is playful and entertaining.

Trying to rebuild the principals of the program

Is a delusion I can drink over.


Finessing my network and pretending I can put together a team

On a basis of specialized talents instead of ground level willingness

Is like designing a plane without regard to physics

Playing only to esthetics.


Anytime I am redesigning

I must realize I am no longer participating

If I keep my head in the game

I can stay away from statistics and stop planning outcomes.



You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault