Time for a change
This is our street. We play and work here every day. People are drawn to this neighborhood, snugged between the freeway and the tracks, and running right up to the big pacific. That’s where they draw the line, where water and land do the tidal two step, Storied waterfronts bear the weight and wear of coming together, drawing together, together drawing what we see. And I draw the same conclusion and that’s where I draw the line. This neighborhood belongs to the people, the commons, part of the incalcuable wealth of Santa Barbara, an asset far too rare and fragile to thrust into a developer’s breezy, sleazy (and yes faux aged corrugated is undeniably cheesy) calculations and futurizing, Enough is enough. The people created this culture, this value, this draw… WE made, Capital culture is the ultimate cancel culture.
The sweet relief of winds of change
Hibernation, hypernation, liberation, candy coated visualization, do the rounds, round the street, see the scene, is this the plan for quarantine, no scene? all slow surprise, the tide for time, only time will tell…
I better learn to listen
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