There’s an easy bliss when words play body-double to meaningful action. It’s a flip chart smooth roll on paper, and anything’s possible. Screen-wise, all shines open. Our letters can stack up to supreme skyscrapers, all inclusive, or tumble to alleys of secluded debris. Love City is built from a cascade of candles. We burn to see the light. As unattached meaning trickles back down, drip, drip, shapes grow—flame and wax dancing—we never intended. The realities of understanding remain but a dream of fanciful fonts—tilted, emboldened, slashed through—pouring into the empty spaces of bedazzled sky, land, and water. The effect lampooning our hearts but capturing our eyes. We are addicts who create to manipulate. And in that process, any sense of unifying truth is buried in our colorful wax.
•Shot from my iGun into your bulletproof devices: K. Shawn Edgar•