Dear all.
I hate the iPhone.
Having found no time to submit anything towards the group statement since last we met I actually sat down this evening and wrote for an hour on my phone. It then died of exhaustion and gmail didn't save anything from my draft.
Now I'll start again, but I doubt it'll be the same.
The draft that isn't saved was always amazing, right? :)
The three artists are residents of a city where some 300 new cars join the roads daily. A city where a mere 8% of the populace have private transport amongst 10.8 million souls. Where the car is king and the environment is continually carved up and polluted in deference to the needs of the private motorist. Where crossing a road on foot, no matter where or when, is a life threatening event. More than anywhere, it is here that the private vehicle is the ultimate object of desire. Its acquisition usually involves long term debt for our cars are extremely expensive. Yet the majority of the drivers are unschooled, unlicensed, madly aggressive and totally fatalistic. The result of this is a massive sprawling market of cannibalized cars at Bilal Gunge. Here the mostly pristine parts of the recently deceased mingle with those of the newly stolen and dismembered. These parts are displayed in so many carefully ordered bowers with the proud mechanics of death in close attendance. An exclusively male, necrophiliac and auto-erotic atmosphere prevails. It is from this vale of everlasting youth that the ageing and accident prone legions of Lahore's cars are endlessly reanimated by so many mechanical Dr Frankensteins.
DCA
Sent from my phone........
no it wasn't. it just saved this and "Dear all......"
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment