Troubled by a constant focus on "building" as a metaphor for everything. As if we only walk among ruins. Americans' dissatisfaction pushed us West and then to the moon. Huck Finn and all his complaints about civilization––it's the opposite of freedom! And yet now we complain about our crumbling infrastructure that we failed to tend to over the years. Lazy American. Someone abroad is always working harder than you and putting you to shame. And that forces you to call for more bombs. And then "nation building".
Still, we care for some places.
Met up with an old friend for lunch in the West Village, then walked downtown to Tribeca. I went to the Dream House and lay there for an hour getting blasted by La Monte Young's music and watching Marian Zazeela's sculptures––gently curving, non-superimposable mirror images, twisting in the light and casting hard shadows on the wall. Then in one of the alleys between Chinatown and the Financial District, a kid offered to sell me drugs with his eyes alone. I can read a stare. My old friend had wondered when he was going to come across an envelope with ten thousand dollars in it, and then I saw a mail slot with a sign taped above it: "insert $$$ here". I sent him the photo with my phone, stuck a dollar in to show obedience, and moved on. Let There Be Neon still exists. At least someone is tending to our most luminescent noble gas.