(from Banksy's Wall and Piece)
To walk into a brick-and-mortar bookstore and peruse its aisles while losing all track of time is the perfect escape from a mind that is constantly running in circles. And I'm spent on running in circles--so spent. Instead, I rather run my fingers along the spines of Fiction and Literature as I imagine a different identity for the person who stares at me with such terrified wonder in mirrors, in rivers, in puddles that gather at my feet.
When I stand among large volumes and quantities of books, I feel like I am being granted the opportunity to transform into somebody else--someone whose life is not a dull shadow of an overbearing human condition. I get to become a creature whose thoughts and philosophical insight render a greater impact on those whom she will never chance to meet, than on those whom she already has met.
The need to depart from the self-infatuating routine of healing a hurting heart was beyond description today. Quite frankly, dealing with a mind as neurotic as my own is exhausting. How many times can a person go over the same damn questions in her mind knowing full well she won't be getting the answers for which her soul yearns?
I decided to remedy this infliction by losing myself in rows and columns of hardcovers, paperbacks, biographies, classics, and poetry--everything that would allow me to become anything and anyone else aside from who I am actually.
I rustled through pages of black print and absorbed stills of richly colored imagery. Gradually, I made my way to the shelves of art books. Thumbing through the finite selection, I came across Banksy's Wall and Piece. I picked up the book in part because Banksy was an artist who came up in conversation with Mister Houdini. I also picked up the book in part because I had yet to understand the intrigue surrounding the graffiti street artist. Truth be told, I had my reservations about Banksy. I couldn't come to terms with how a painter like Vincent van Gogh, who worked endlessly to offer this world an unparalleled passion and perspective, was so greatly under-appreciated while he was alive, and yet Banksy could be so well received while he is still breathing and living on the same earth that the former once traversed.
After reading some of Banksy's statements and going through some of his work, I grew a new understanding of and appreciation for who he is as an artist and his choice of medium. What really won me over was the above image and words. Seriously, they are the perfect summation of my life in the most recent weeks. It is as if God threw this book on my lap and said, "Open it; there's something in there for you."
Indeed, there really was.
Thanks Banksy.
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