![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
But if you stepped on path of sacred art and stuck it out through thick and thin
We are home. The little cats have been fed. Autolycus has clung to my shoulder with his enormous paws and purred thunderously into my ear. Hestia has leaped onto the back of my office chair and shredded it enthusiastically with her ears laid back like a demon rabbit. (I have no idea why she greets me this way.) Autolycus is playing in my office doorway with the red plastic ring off a gallon of cider and I am drinking a lot of very hot water to make up for the dryness of the train. There was another thing we saw in New York, which I wanted to wait until I got home and could get the pictures off my camera to post about.
We found a shrine.
I don't know what else to call it. I imagine most New Yorkers on my friendlist have seen it already, but I hadn't known it was happening. Because we were heading for the Strand, we took the Q train from Flatbush and 7th and got off at 14th Street–Union Square; we came upstairs through the turnstiles and I said suddenly and inaptly, "Oh, this is interesting." In front of us was a tiled wall of fluttering Post-It notes of all plain or office-perky colors, carefully excluding most of a newspaper advertisement and I think an offical sign from the MTA and otherwise as thick as mosaic. It continued around the corner, all the way to the foot of the stairs at the northwest corner. They said things like "Love is Love is Love is Love" and "Call your elected officials regularly!" and "CHECK YOUR PRIVILEGE" and "Love Trumps Hate Love you Hillary" and "Fired the FUCK UP" and "BE KIND ACT UP" and "Grieve the country you live in. Fight for that country's future" and "Even if you ignore everything else, the man is still incompetent as fuck!" One was a doodle of a dick and balls lettered with Trump's name. One was a two-note-spanning satirical prayer. They blew like aspen leaves every time a train went by, but did not come unstuck. People were writing and adding Post-It messages as we watched. We wrote our own. I totally let down the poetry-reading population of Manhattan by misquoting Auden's "September 1, 1939"—I wrote We must learn to love one another or die, which is a great sentiment but not in fact what Wystan wrote in 1939. If only I hadn't attributed it.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel left a sign without words. In terms of public protest art, it's the best thing I have seen since the election. People took pictures and so did we. More people were adding notes as we left. I am very glad that the city is not taking it down.
We found a shrine.
I don't know what else to call it. I imagine most New Yorkers on my friendlist have seen it already, but I hadn't known it was happening. Because we were heading for the Strand, we took the Q train from Flatbush and 7th and got off at 14th Street–Union Square; we came upstairs through the turnstiles and I said suddenly and inaptly, "Oh, this is interesting." In front of us was a tiled wall of fluttering Post-It notes of all plain or office-perky colors, carefully excluding most of a newspaper advertisement and I think an offical sign from the MTA and otherwise as thick as mosaic. It continued around the corner, all the way to the foot of the stairs at the northwest corner. They said things like "Love is Love is Love is Love" and "Call your elected officials regularly!" and "CHECK YOUR PRIVILEGE" and "Love Trumps Hate Love you Hillary" and "Fired the FUCK UP" and "BE KIND ACT UP" and "Grieve the country you live in. Fight for that country's future" and "Even if you ignore everything else, the man is still incompetent as fuck!" One was a doodle of a dick and balls lettered with Trump's name. One was a two-note-spanning satirical prayer. They blew like aspen leaves every time a train went by, but did not come unstuck. People were writing and adding Post-It messages as we watched. We wrote our own. I totally let down the poetry-reading population of Manhattan by misquoting Auden's "September 1, 1939"—I wrote We must learn to love one another or die, which is a great sentiment but not in fact what Wystan wrote in 1939. If only I hadn't attributed it.
derspatchel left a sign without words. In terms of public protest art, it's the best thing I have seen since the election. People took pictures and so did we. More people were adding notes as we left. I am very glad that the city is not taking it down.
no subject
no subject
You're welcome. It seemed like a thing to be shared.
no subject
no subject
I hope it stays.
no subject
no subject
You're welcome!
no subject
http://www.king5.com/news/local/subway-therapy-project-overtakes-capitol-hill-light-rail/351367293 https://twitter.com/jseattle/status/798245541255618560
(Meanwhile, this ugly giant neon red X sign advertising a new giant luxury apt complex in our neighbourhood is just fine. Sigh. http://www.capitolhillseattle.com/2016/11/chs-pics-x-marks-the-spot-above-capitol-hills-newest-luxury-community-the-excelsior-apartments/)
no subject
Phoeey. I hope it can be revived. I thought it was beautiful in the wild in New York.
no subject
no subject
Thanks so much for posting this hopeful crowd-sourced art explosion.
no subject
You are very, very welcome.
no subject
no subject
You're welcome. Feel free to share.
no subject
no subject
I was so glad to see it.
no subject
no subject
I am happy things like this exist and I am happy this one exists now.
no subject
Also, there's a metaphor in there somewhere about adaptability. It reminds me of people writing their wishes and sticking them in the cracks of sacred places, but bolder, because they are not hiding what they have to say, but leaving their hearts open for anyone to read.
no subject
It had a very symbolic weight: frail, flyaway, impermanent, staying right here.
It reminds me of people writing their wishes and sticking them in the cracks of sacred places, but bolder, because they are not hiding what they have to say, but leaving their hearts open for anyone to read.
I think that's why I keep referring to it as a shrine. It's a set of messages from the community to itself, but it also feels like a kind of collective prayer. I hope enough people are inspired by it to act that the prayer works.
no subject
no subject
I was so happy to see it.
no subject
no subject
I would be honored if you put them on Tumblr! Please credit me by wallet name; this journal has never been really anonymous.
no subject
no subject
Thank you!
no subject
no subject
I agree; it's great protest art.
no subject
Thank you! I'm glad, too.
I agree; it's great protest art.
I loved that it was not static even as we stood there.
no subject
no subject
I hope someone is keeping track of them all. They are worth reading.
no subject
no subject
Do you know when it started? I had heard nothing and was so happy to see it once I realized what it was.
no subject