A camerawoman wanders from the lone star up to the empire and finally across to the golden state, documenting the youth of the 21st century.
Movement No. I: The Lone Star
The raw life of Houston begins with a line, straight and true, and ends with a dome that wraps you tight in her motherly arms. Repeated fluffy white clouds (as they should be) fill the dome in oddly neat rows and commence their march over the flat and sturdy land.
It’s silently still living under a sky cracked open at every corner of the panorama; all secrets are spilled by the end of the night.
Vivid murals, painted with steady precision, are a frequent reminder of Austin’s inspirited populace who will scarf down tacos on every other street, even with a morning cup of coffee. Red plaid and cow print are some kind of calling, and black outlines are a must. I’ll have to visit a couple more times to tell you why.
Take a peek at these two.
A couple of notes for now: the sound is temporary, visuals will be layered, photos are allowed.
Coincident is my best assistant.
The Empire strikes next…