Full view a must. Final, 5-piece project may be viewed here [link]

Last semester's final project.

The guidelines were to create a collection.

I opted to collect, from various sources, phrases and prose that would provide for the lifeless behemoths a pulse. An attempt to personify a skyline beyond mere architecture.

Background stock:
[link]

Text credits:

Background:
Godspeed! You Black Emperor - The Dead Flag Blues - f# a# oo (1998)

the car's on fire and there's no driver at the wheel
and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
and a dark wind blows
the government is corrupt
and we're on so many drugs
with the radio on and the curtains drawn
we're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
and the machine is bleeding to death
the sun has fallen down
and the billboards are all leering
and the flags are all dead at the top of their poles
it went like this:
the buildings tumbled in on themselves
mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble
and pulled out their hair
the skyline was beautiful on fire
all twisted metal stretching upwards
everything washed in a thin orange haze
i said: "kiss me, you're beautiful -
these are truly the last days"
you grabbed my hand and we fell into it
like a daydream or a fever
we woke up one morning and fell a little further down -
for sure it's the valley of death
i open up my wallet
and it's full of blood
[link]

(From left to right)

There's a whole world off this island. all it takes is one long swim to start over. tell mother i love her.
[link]

atomic war means no traffic in the morning. no bills in the mail. i can stay in bed with you all day.
[link]

yes, I believe in love, yes, I'm a dreamer.
but I'm not alone, there are more of us than you suspect,
and we've got bombs, truth and beauty bombs.
[link]

and the neon signs of the strip clubs have become akin to the beacons of hope once sought by the devout. the city glows brightest when the night is dark. strangely. similar to the light of the day with a twist of sin thrown in for good measure. the warmth is lost on us. our religious icons are changing faster than we can draw breath. our lungs collapsing under the weight of a wayward generation. the angels, if the are indeed worthy such a title, spend night sleepless and wandering - searching for the last shreds of decency in a sea of self-preservation. they end up just like us - weeping and smelling of whiskey.
Original piece by M. Hennegan

communication has wilted. we have spawned talk so small it has become flirtation for the sake of making sure we still can - and i am all for it.
Found art on a wall in Montreal; unable to credit

the streets are cold; they're dark and they're lonely. it's impossible not to lose yourself in the sea of briefcases, of aftershave. the pixie-fire of floating cigarettes illuminating the faceless. revealing their vulnerability - if only for an instant. yet, there's something warm in the rhythmic marching of busy lives, isn't there? it becomes almost exhilarating to be caught up in its order. uniformity. a religious experience.. and the billboards light the way home brighter than the star of Bethlehem ever could.
Original piece by G. Lakeev

every statue in town / came to life
but they'd been watching / long enough / to know better
than to ever move
[link]

the city is less and less business and more and more ambulance sirens at night
Found art on a wall in Montreal; unable to credit

peculiar- a city, it seems, to busy to take its own pulse, or read to its children, or take out its trash, stops. and composes a lied through its sirens and screams. the sights, the sounds, the smells merge into a single, tangible, beautiful thing - almost attained. silent palpitations of the inanimate heart. the bones, the spine, the skull, permit their steel core to sway in the wind. they dance with the rest of us.
Original piece by G. Lakeev

i refuse to believe that the best we can hope to ever be is a quote, photograph, and two dates in a dusty, old history book somewhere. if the price all men pay renders us even in its banality, i'd rather die terrified than live forever
Original piece by G. Lakeev;"I'd rather die terrified than live forever" credited to [link]