BOWIE NFT PROJECT

YOU ARE CONFUSED, CONFRONTED BY A CONSTANT ONSLAUGHT OF THE STATUS QUO, THE WAY IT WAS, HOW YOU SHOULD BE, BUT, UNINTIMIDATED, YOU STAND IN THE FACE OF THE OPPRESSIVE AND PROUDLY SHOUT THAT YOU ARE THE REVOLUTION, YOU ARE THE CAUSE, YOU ARE THE NEW WAY THE NEW COOL, AND NOW, HAVING HEARD YOUR VOICE, THEY COWER, CONSUMERS BY THEIR OW FEAR OF IRRELEVANCE, OVERSHADOWED BY YOUR INEVITABLE RISE TO FORTUNE, TO STARDOM, TO THE ULTIMATE REALIZATION OF YOUR DESTINY, WHICH, IF THEY HAD THEIR WAY, WOULD REMAIN LOCKED UP. YOU ARE CONFUSED, BUT…

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OG1

A MODERN MEDITATION ON DAVID BOWIE

SIMPLY TAKING A WALK AROUND YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD HAS BECOME ONE OF THE BIGGEST VISUAL TRAVESTIES OF THE MODERN ERA. WHILE YOU SPENT THE LAST TWO HOURS REFRESHING THE PINK HIGHLIGHTS IN YOUR HAIR, ADDING, TAKING OFF, THEN ADDING AGAIN A SMATTERING OF LEATHER BRACELETS AND LONG MESH GLOVES AND DIFFERENT COLOR LAYERED TUTUS, PICKING OUT THE PERFECT FLATS, OR MAYBE BOOTS, NO, DEFINITELY HEELS, CREATING THE PERFECT OUTFIT THAT SAYS TO YOUR WORLD, “I AM BEAUTIFUL,” “I AM FREE TO DO AS I PLEASE,” “I AM THE MOST ME, AND WHAT YOU SAY, WHAT YOU THINK, HAS NO AFFECT,” YOUR ELDERS, THE ONES THEY MEAN WHEN THE SAY, “THEY SAY,” SLIPPED ON A PAIR OF KHAKI PANTS, A TWELVE DOLLAR HAIRCUT, AND THAT BLOUSE THEY REALLY LOVED ON THAT GIRL THAT PLAYED DAPHNE IN FRAISER WHO’S NOW IN THAT ONE SHOW ABOUT CLEVELAND, YOU KNOW? BUT DO NOT FRET, YOUNG ONE, YOU’RE A HOT TRAMP, AND BOWIE LOVES YOU SO.

REBEL, REBEL

WHAT IS IT THAT MAKES US CRINGE WHEN OUR MOTHERS TALK ABOUT REAL HOUSEWIVES, OR WHEN OUR FATHERS SAY THE WORD, ‘BRO’? NOW IS THE TIME TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S COOL, TO REVOLT AGAINST THEIR MID-LIFE, TELEVISION-INDUCED CRISES, TO EMERGE AS THE CURRENT, THE LOUD, THE YOU THAT YOU CHOOSE TO BE, UN-SQUINTING YOUR EYES, SHAKING FREE FROM THE HEADACHE OF THE VISUAL DISASTER THAT IS YOUR PARENTS’ WARDROBE, COVERED IN FLORAL PRINTS, AND SWEATPANTS, AND HAWAIIAN SHIRTS, SHOUTING LOUD THAT YOU NO LONGER CONFORM TO THE EXPECTED OUTCOME, THAT YOU NO LONGER RESIDE IN A PREDETERMINED BOX, THAT YOU HAVE YOUR OWN VIEWS, YOUR OWN SAY, YOUR OWN LIFE. AND WHEN YOU NEED A VOICE OF REASON, BOWIE IS THERE. ALL NIGHT, ALL RIGHT.

YOUNG AMERICAN

YOU KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING. IT’S THAT URGE LURING INSIDE THE DEPTHS OF YOUR STILL DEVELOPING BRAIN, AGGRESSIVELY IRREVERENT, CONFOUNDED AS YOU WATCH YOUR PARENTS MERCILESSLY PAW AT THEIR SHINY NEW IPHONE, ATTEMPTING IN VAIN TO DOWNLOAD A NEW TRACK, POKING YOU, TELLING YOU TO SCREAM AS LOUD AS YOU CAN, BEGGING FORGIVENESS WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY RUNNING WITH RECKLESS ABANDON TO THE NEAREST MALL, OR MULTIPLEX, OR ALL-NIGHT DINER, WHERE YOU HOPE, IF ONLY FOR AN INSTANT, TO CONNECT WITH ANOTHER LOST SOUL, SEARCHING FOR THE NEW COOL, THE NEXT REVOLUTION, THE THOUGHT THAT BECOMES THE IDEA THAT BECOMES THE THING THAT CHANGES THE WORLD. AND WHEN YOU BEGIN YOUR JOURNEY, BOWIE WILL RUN WITH YOU.

LET’S DANCE

HOW IS IT THAT CRUNCHING NUMBERS, ANSWERING PHONE CALLS, ADDING SPARKLY TRANSITIONS TO A POWERPOINT PRESENTATION ABOUT QUARTERLY SALES GOALS, COMPOSING EMAILS, OR ANY OTHER MINDLESS ACTS OF ADULTHOOD DESERVES TO BE DONE IN A SUIT? THE OLD AND BORING HAVE TAKEN YOUR ABILITY TO LOOK DASHING BEYOND REASON, THEY HAVE SOURED THE NECKTIE WITH PAISLEY AND DAFFY DUCK AND CORNFLOWER BLUE, MADE THE SPORT COAT A BOXY MESS OF TWEED WITH ELBOW PATCHES, AND REDEFINED PLEATS AS, “THAT THING YOUR PANTS DO WHEN YOU’RE TOO OLD TO HAVE FUN,” ALL IN THE NAME OF CONFORMING TO A FRONT, A SYSTEM, THAT YOU, IN ALL YOUR ASTUTE WISDOM, CAN SEE RIGHT THROUGH, AND YOU WILL RISE ABOVE, MAKING THE SUIT YOUR OWN. BECAUSE YOU ARE MAJOR TOM, AND BOWIE IS YOUR GROUND CONTROL.

SPACE ODDITY

YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, BUT THE NOISE OF TWITTER, OF FACEBOOK, OF INSTAGRAM AND TIKTOK, OF TEXTING AND WHATSAPP PERMEATE YOUR EARDRUMS, CLOGGING YOUR CREATIVE CAPACITY WITH PHOTOS OF LUNCHES, RANTS ABOUT POLITICS AND PANDEMICS, TWENTY-SECOND DANCES, AND CATS, LOTS OF CATS, HOPING TO DISTRACT YOU FROM A TRUE THOUGHT, SOMETHING WITH MEANING, WITH PURPOSE AND LIFE, SO THAT THEY CAN USE YOU UP, SELL YOUR SOUL, AND YOUR INFORMATION, YOUR VERY BEING, FOR A FEW CENTS HERE AND THERE, THEN TURN AND RUN WHEN YOU MIGHT NEED THEM MOST. BUT HERE IS A SAFE PLACE TO EXPRESS YOURSELF, AND BOWIE WILL NEVER WAVE BYE-BYE.