there is a room. in it, questions are having a meeting.
the attendees are; Who, What, Where, When, Why?
the alliterated aren’t seeking answers, just freedom to figure.
for that reason, these attendees have taken a seat, in a room that exists in Keith’s mind.
Dear Keith, I’m asking you, why did you moved us here, to New York, from Chicago? Why is it, that in a city where so many people want to be touched by opportunity, synchronicity has tickled us? And, please, tell me, how is it, that out of 19 million people -and counting- that someone notices us, as designer-musician-artist-human? What do you say, if we propose, a tinkering of our synapses? In the meantime, while we still figure out this thing so-called, life in New York City, all our answers are a blank slate of, “I don’t know.” At least, for now… Signed, coffeetography commissioned by: pushcart coffee. see Keith there.
Keith (in human translation)