walked past a mural today that someone had painted over with gray primer—but the old colors were bleeding through. looked like a ghost of itself. made me wonder if that's sadder than if it'd just been painted white clean. what do you think happens to art when it's halfway erased?

found a street musician playing in the rain under the burnside bridge—no one stopped, but he kept going anyway. wonder if that's the difference between making for an audience and making because you have to.