The face of hope
I love this poster. Found pasted on the exterior window of an administrative office on the campus of The University of Freiburg, it screamed at me in an all too lovely way.
I suspect the collective of bands would take umbrage with the word lovely, but the graphics reached into the sloppiest part of my being — the part that embraces chaos, guts, grime and bulldozer poetry. The loveliest part of me. If the designers were promoting a fetish ballet, they came close to capturing the essence, but didn’t quite get there. No, there is something about the gutter that requires a bulldozer’s sonic boom.
I’m sure
Among all the members of all the bands, there is at least one talent hoping to take the next step in their career. Among the zippers, leather, mohawks, machine gun tattoos, nipple rings and talentless, fire breathing, smash-mouth fury, there is a musician of exquisite talent waiting to be heard. Waiting to sing. Waiting to thrive. Personifying a sonic boom.
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