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Philadelphia Row is a term used, not only in Philadelphia neighborhoods, but elsewhere to refer to orderly rows of regularized housing.  
But there is nothing orderly or regular about any of the goings on in a Philadelphia Row.


READ SOME FICTION

Precision

6/21/2014

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In my life, I have heard accolades about my creativity.  (i have also heard some derision about my creativity.)  And the perception until now, within my head, has been that this creativity is the manifestation of the chaos occurring within.  Whether it's something I draw, or something i cut and paste, or something i say or something i write, the demonstration is met with emotion.  Now that emotion can be a smile curling in the corner of a lip or a guffaw -even sheer horror or utter confusion.  The reaction is usually profound when creativity explodes!   

Someone once said to me the artist sees things regular folks do with an irregularity that needs to be translated for those who do not see.   It's as simple as seeing the faces in the wood grain of the closet door and pointing it out to your big sister who just wants to get her hair brushed so we can walk to school.  

But last night, I was exposed to words ordered in such a fashion that made me really understand that all people do not see the faces in the wood grain. 

Moreover, there is a precision with creativity, not an explosion of chaos on the page (or canvas or whatever medium is chosen.)  I'm astounded when people are talking and I feel them struggle with words and give them that word they learned in vocabulary but never integrated into their vernacular.  It just hangs out in the corner of their memory devouring the leftovers from 'likes' and 'you-knows' disgorged from the speakers mouths waiting for their time to shine.  So i give people with whom i speak the words i know would precisely define their ideas and then a tangent occurs about my eloquence.  

And the eloquence occurs in the background for me and I frequently thought that some folks are just being lazy with their words and would rather use the same forty-two in their vocabulary arsenal instead of making the effort to get that wallflower dancing.    

But quite frankly that is not true.  Some folks do not have it in them to place words with their specific meanings together in a line with precision.  

Years ago, I saw a painting at the museum that appeared to be a mish-mash of colored spots on the canvas.  After noticing the title of the piece which was something like bicycles about the countryside ( i cannot recall the exact title or the artist.), i saw it.  I saw blurry spots of bicycles riding along paths leading to fruit markets and cheese shops and laid against a tree while riders picnicked.  it was so complex and yet, without the precision of the title, i may never have taken note to the detail.   

And THAT's the thing i'm getting at here (with ALL these words that I'm lining up, hopefully with a precision that will allow seeing things as i intend to present them) - this creativity is not the vomit of a madman that the regular needs to piece together for clarity.  It's the precision the artist has laid before the regular to define the objective of the message.  The disregard of the detail is the disregard of the objective.  It is seeing blotches of paint instead of the bicycles.  

I think the introspection and apprehension that goes along with exposing creativity is rooted in the need for understanding.  Not acceptance- understanding.  It is with precision that an artist decides on the method of exposure.  It is with precision that an artist decides the details in their work.  And i finally see that it is not the desire to have folks accept what you have to present so that it becomes a part of the masses, but just that they can see the faces in the wood grain as we do.
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    When Sevy realizes the pharmaceuticals keeping their bodies young are weened from those deemed to have exhausted their usefulness, he believes he must delve into the purpose of this synthesized society believing it is not much different than the life he lived on earth. 

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    Esther Elizabeth Buck 

    i'm halfway through my life with the stifled stories stirring.  i should have done it earlier, but i am on the
     write path finally.

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