So I’m sitting in a diner called Little Henry’s this morning eating breakfast and having coffee. Although, I guess it isn’t morning anymore. It’s 12:30 pm. (For the curious, Little Henry’s is off Post and Larkin in San Francisco.)
I recently registered for my SF Public Library card. I love libraries. I love hallways lined with books and hushed voices. I love the smell of old paper and getting lost in words.
Air Guitar by Dave Hickey is the last book I’ve checked out from the public library. I’ve only just reached chapter 3 but would already recommend it.
It’s sunny today in the city (birds flying high, you know how I feel.)
Message me something to read: a quote, a short story, a book. Write and tell me how you are doing. Let me know, what are you working on today? Let’s share our lives with each other.
Thank you for being here with me; for sticking around. If you need it, I’m here for you too.
ArtWeek, September 1, 1989.
This is the society of kids. I tell my students they’re already too old to figure importantly in the making of society. Minute by minute they’re beginning to diverge from each other. ‘Even as we sit here,’ I tell them, ‘you are spinning out from the core, becoming less recognizable as a group, less targetable by advertisers and mass-producers of culture. Kids are a true universal. But you’re well beyond that already beginning to drift, to feel estranged from the products you consume. Who are they designed for? What is your place in the marketing scheme? Once you’re out of school, it is only a matter of time before you experience the vast loneliness and dissatisfaction of consumers who have lost their group identity.’ Then I tap my pencil on the table to indicate time passing ominously.
Murray Jay Siskind