On the heels of fascination with the flimsy wire and plastic sheath utility flags that dot the berms of America including our city BURIED CABLE WASTEWATER GAS TELCOM the child is now obsessed with graffiti. Murals, stickers, throwups, whatever MAMA LOOK! GRAFFITI! I got you, fam.
Today we did a graffiti hunt. For each bit we found, no matter how small, he plopped his butt and drew it in his notebook. Not well. Not even close. “Scribble scrabbles,” he might say, but it’s a start in the middle to the end of noticing.
The more you look, the more you see.
The more you’re you, the more you’re me.
…Or the more I’m me?
Both fit and blur as we buzz in the bright sun.
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