polluted

I am writing a blog entry. About a City that has been stripped of advertising: billboards, adshells, posters, pamphlets. Of all its pounding visual.noise.

I am writing about the effect this controversial move has had on the City’s massive metropolitan population. I am curious about the ways in which it might be possible to encourage heightened experiences of collective serenity.

As I write, I am sitting in the high.ceiling.ed, light.filled.room of a friend.

And then he quietly slips on some music. Soft, gentle, something that I would not normally choose. And I suddenly feel like crying. Calmed, hushed, soothed.

My own pollution drifts.