Mondane Morning, Coming Up

I woke up my seven-year old today at 7 am so he could maybe get 7 minutes to use the bathroom and play a video game before he has to eat breakfast and get ready for school. He’s mad and depressed about school, but resigned to the futility of fighting it. He carves out all the joy he can out of the first hour of being awake and then submits to being pushed and pulled the 7 blocks to school. 1 more day on the books, 2987 (or so) to go. “It will all work out,” I tell him as I push him into the scrum of his class, “you are getting all the tools you need to make it happen.”

So at his young age, he knows too well the score of the daily dirge and the lilt of a whispered promise of a better tomorrow. He’s learning to dance to these two songs that form the 7 Inch single of life, the blues and pop of our shared experience; We endure and we enjoy. If I had to pick two songs that represent the A side and B side of existence, I’d say Mass Production by Iggy Pop and Success by Iggy Pop. Malcolm says Girl On Fire by Alicia Keys and Thrift Shop by Macklemore. You try it, There is no wrong answer. Whatever gets you through the night, its alright. (good B side choice there).

Meanwhile, on this Mondane Mourning, we are mumbling our motivational mess-age. Its Drag Yourself To Work Day is a 12″ x 12″ screenprint on 334 gram Coventry Rag in 3 colors in an edition of 100. Its $150 plus shipping. Order today and i’ll draw more anthropomorphic trashbags enduring and enjoying on your print, or I’ll leave it alone in its solitude to grace the cubicle called life. Email us at espoprints@gmail.com with your location and we’ll send an invoice.

Oh finally, when in New York, please visit one of my favorite public art works, The Commuter’s Lament or A Close Shave by Norman Colp. Its a series of signs in the tunnel between the Port Authority and Times Square that read:

OVERSLEPT

SO TIRED.

IF LATE,

GET FIRED.

WHY BOTHER?

WHY THE PAIN?

JUST GO HOME

DO IT AGAIN

If thats the A SIDE in the artwork, the B SIDE is a photograph at the end of a pillow and an unmade bed. Thats paradise, at least until the record gets flipped.