such a nasty woman | by maryann johanson
Tue Jan 20 2015, 10:00pm | 4 comments
Graffiti spotted on the Upper East Side.
In the library where I study there is a desk that I sit at, it has a privacy wall in-between it and the desk in-front of it. This privacy wall is covered in writing and doodles. There are conversations that have sprung up between users of the desk, mostly jokes and petty insults but a few serious threads as well. What is it about walls, digital or otherwise, that compel us to write on them? I guess it’s a kind of immortality, a passing on of information. Our thoughts and feelings can live on long after we have passed. It’s like this pretentious and off-topic paragraph is one of my children, living on to influence others and spawning new ideas. Will it swim like a salmon, up this digital river that is the internet?
Well, I’m in a weird mood this morning. I’ve always wanted to visit New York.
What is it about walls, digital or otherwise, that compel us to write on them?
Whatever that impulse is, it’s at least 40,000 years old.
Wouldn’t it be ironic if there were hundreds more of these that the Elders of the time scrubbed off. “Damn kids! Now eat your mammoth”
Heh. I couldn’t help of thinking of this.
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