the staccato geometry of the overlapping window panes recalls modernist techniques either passé or endlessly replicated by hacks far removed from whatever pressures moved artists in the decades following the birth of the 20th century. little did those artists know where all that sound and fury might lead to, but we know, a century later, that whatever pressures bear down on us now aren’t moving us in the same ways, if at all.
snippets of a language we might understand if we listened a little closer, and studied a little harder.
everyone looks tired, and if they don’t, well, we’re not sure they live in the same world.
we listened to stravinsky on spotify. we watched the angles of telephone lines shift with our perspective.
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