Tuesday, June 2, 2009

welcome to VoraCity

If the architecture represents power...maybe the power is the collection of buildings we call the city?
Can we draw power from the city?
Does our choice of city depend on the amount of power we gain?Or maybe this whole time the city has been sucking power from us?
Maybe the city air enters our nostrils, permeates our lungs, and is expelled from our mouth carrying our power as we exhale in exhaustion from the overwhelming fatigue that overcomes the individual in the city?
Is this how the city grows and multiplies, and does the city have even have the right to our power?
How do we fight back...how do we regain our power from
VoraCity’s bridges don’t cross bodies of water, they don’t allow access to remote islands; they encapsulate you as you make your way from your familiar spaces of work, home, the bars you frequent, and your place of education.
The bridge's decks are the streets you drive, the paths you jog, and tracks that your train runs on;
it’s guard rails are building fa├žade’s and shop fronts;
it predetermines your experiences that day to day don’t change, and that you rarely divert from.
VoraCity forbids you to ask ‘what does the door below the flashing neon light really lead’, ‘how many people live in the red apartment block’, and ‘where do the series of red lines lead?’
How do we regain our power from VoraCity?
Infiltrate the city; burrow tunnels and break through it's walls to expose the fleshy interior protected by it's outer shell of facades and pavement...
spread and multiply; seep into the city's vein's to traverse it's organs, corrode the muscle and perforate it's structure...
then rise; rebel against the city rule and surge skyward with creativity, innovation, and individualism.