Like the flowers, The Sun was giving out good vibrations. I slithered like a Lizard from underneath my rock, headed to Newtown, I created some of my characters on the street and boggled my eyes about. Saturday was one of those awesome days when Newtown is such a good place to be. The underground art fair was on at the hub, poets and musicians out on the street, the misplaced and forgotten with cups in their hands.
All morning my characters sneaked off and roamed King street by themselves. Where they are now? I have no idea. The last i heard was that one found refuge somewhere in cave , the other said he was looking for the freewheelin' Bob Dylan
Taking time to smell the flowers was made a little easier, along King street, as flowers sprouted up from in-between the cracks of the footpath. Each flower had the distinct perfume, or ordure la smell of Bus exhaust. One wiff, and you are reminded that the combustible engine isn't that great.
The Afternoon saw a bunch of characters go like cute puppies in a wildfire. I’m sure they’ve all gone to cool homes, especially little Afro Boy. Nude fairies fluttered about all day, the universe spewed colour that resonated all around the space, and Rodney Dangerfield lay in a DVD coffin. All under the watchful eye of Martin Luther King.
Fairy paintings by Jess Rose.
No comments:
Post a Comment