Week of the Turquoise Coyote

Let's state the obvious:

Arizona is hot as hell.

Phoenix was never meant to be a dreamy urban hotspot. From the beginning it was a bitter fist in an ancient battle between God and man. In this case, I think God won and we humans were left with a sprawled out, 80's-bowling-alley-styled city to overcook for eternity like school cafeteria chicken.

I've walked a lot the past weeks: it's my favorite way to experience a city. That, or running. Something something about feet on pavement. You get a real feel for the pace of the city, for the friendliness and humanity via foot. Phoenix, although it's a boiling pot of misplaced palm trees, has surprising pockets of sympathy for the human soul. A real A+ Fitzgerald situation.

“I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.”

― Fitzgerald F. Scott, The Great Gatsby

Seriously; things like the light rail, the public library or pockets of parks serve as humanitarian oasis's. The mixture of life is exhilarating to me: the homeless, young families, kind gangsters, working singles, all gathered by the air con like a regular safari waterhole. 

When people ask me "Why Arizona?" when I tell them I've moved, my go-to reference point has been contrast. In art & design (as well as in life, if you want to take a leap), finding contrast between ideas and materials is essential to understanding them: both as concepts and as tools. Culturally, environmentally, it's almost the perfect opposite of Amsterdam. Not that Amsterdam isn't culturally or economically diverse. However, living in Amsterdam I could never quite shake off the feeling of not belonging, of being alienated by my financial struggles. 

However, what's been most important for me is that I'm able to re-visit summer. As some of you know, this summer was a tough one. Tragedy tends to travel in pairs or packs. Needing to take a break from school wasn't unaccompanied by other struggles. But as I head out of my front door each day, baptized in sun and heat, I feel a strong sense of being able to return to a beginning. 

Summer; revisited. What could it have been, if trauma and tragedy didn't happen? It's a nice question for anybody to ask: what kind of person would you be without trauma and depression constantly knocking at your door? As an artist, businessman, or otherwise?

Although I will never be able to splice off difficult parts of my life from the nice parts, it's nice to feel like I can throw the heaviness away for a while. On that line, I also feel like I can share some of the little things I did over the summer, artistically. A lot of you know about the postcards (which I would still like to bring to a nice conclusion), which have continued to bring me (and hopefully others) joy. 

I also raided building sites and gathers yards on yards of plastic construction rope. Maybe because my backpack has fallen into a desperate state of disrepair, but I've also become curious about bags. They're easy to make, and you can do them in so many different ways. They'r controversial (bans on plastic or how environmentally taxing canvas can be) but ingrained in our lives. This sumer, I used the plastic rope to weave: 

All that to say:

greetings from Phoenix. 

Stay cool.