Cast aside, away from the larger lot. Drinking Hamm’s from a can, licking sweet brown paper, thinking about when Nintendo was a luxury. Why do passing decades force most people to only consider crossing things off or crossing things out?
Corner store. Consignment store. Consigned corners.
Hand-me-down hoodies and ski masks conceal current states of mind, states of matter, matters of fact. As a matter of fact: What happened yesterday? What happened ten years ago? Never mind that. Think about the future. Short-term for the long-term? That’s practical. Long-term for the short-term? That’s sensible. Standstill for the time being? That’s diplomacy. Disregard until the afterlife? That’s religion.
Year of the Pig. Year of the Cow. Year of the Now.
You never know your value until you leave your home. Take wild rice, for example. It feels common and comfortable in affordable Northern bowls. But if it were to go on vacation to one of the coasts, it would likely need to be purchased in pounds with the Euro.
Race for a cure. Race for a riot. Riot for a cure.
“Hey, do you think the RZA is into Nam June Paik? Do you think Nam June Paik read Philip K. Dick? Do you think PKD was a fan of Mother Teresa? Of course he was…she was a misogynist.”
-Keith J. Varadi, June 2014
Keith J. Varadi is an artist, poet and curator based in Los Angeles, CA