On getting back to the things themselves

Maybe I'll hang around here during the coming storm. 'Learning to sail' is what my fortune said, the way the cookie crumbled. A selfish, quiet focus. It'll function not as commentary or ego but more of a small work bench with a light hanging high above. Listen boy, find a part of town that silences the passing train and junction hum.

Orson Wells: Our works in stone, in paint, in print, are spared, some of them, for a few decades or a millennium or two, but everything must finally fall in war, or wear away into the ultimate and universal ash - the triumphs, the frauds, the treasures and the fakes. A fact of life: we're going to die. "Be of good heart," cry the dead artists out of the living past. "Our songs will all be silenced, but what of it? Go on singing." Maybe a man's name doesn't matter all that much.

Location:4th St,Detroit,United States