or Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Poets, artists, and other bohemian types sacrifice a standard of living for the non-refundable resource of time for art. They move into a bats-and-rats neighborhood and build up a culture of beautiful things. The gypsies draw in people who, lacking culture and respect, think they can just buy into that vibe. That feeling. That magick that makes the area seem like something out of a book.
Big-name coffee houses are the first nail in the coffin. Then brick buildings are sacrificed for cement parking lots because yuppies with cars more expensive than most people’s houses don’t want to spend 5 minutes looking for a place to park it. And some young blood who inherits daddy’s money wants to relive some glory days that never belonged to them in the first place and invest in the neighborhood. Except they aren’t investing in the community at all but looking to capitalize on the work of others. Then the cute chain boutiques begin to overtake the mom-and-pop businesses that were forced to leave when the property owners realized they could cash in on the work they had done to create beauty and harmony. And in comes the pseudo-art galleries with their favored rich-guy marketing genius that figures he can make bank of people’s lack of knowledge by convincing a following of collectors that one of their 1/25,000 prints is going to be worth something someday.
And what is the artist to do? The street musician, the chaos magician? Sell out and be a part of the machine that has stripped them of their dignity and stolen what they created?
No, the move on. And leave their garden a cultural desert for people with more money than gratitude to enjoy the circle-jerk.
About the author
Gerald Enrique del Campo is a poet, Jungian, philosopher, hermetic magician, shaman, mythologist, author, musician, mead maker, herbalist, foodie, motorcyclist and, all around nice guy.