Wednesday, January 7, 2009

SCRIBBLINGS: Drifting to my apartment

Since it has been bitterly cold in Lviv, I have stopped exploring the city. I have been taking the most direct route to and from the market. But today I realized routine had crippled me. It had gotten to the point where I knew not only every street vendor but what they usually fucking wear. I have become an expert on babushka mitten styles. I may have well been sleep walking.

So at Blvd. Schevchenko I flipped a coin at the intersection, desperate to determine an alternate route. At first I was extremely irritated but once on my way I was awake again, finding my way.

Then chance intervened when I chose to avoid a pack of wild dogs near some dumpsters and slipped off through a courtyard I had never been through before. This is where the drift paid off some, I discovered a nasty bit of street art done up in pop-surrealist style:



I was not born again but I was rescued from my babushka mitten fetish, which was a relief.

"In a dérive (drift) one or more persons during a certain period drop their usual motives for movement and action, their relations, their work and leisure activities, and let themselves be drawn by the attractions of the terrain and the encounters they find there… But the dérive includes both this letting go and its necessary contradiction: the domination of psychogeographical variations by the knowledge and calculation of their possibilities."
-Guy Debord, from Theory of Dérive

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