Paterson

Paterson ★★★★★

I breathe poetry. 

The wall of Paterson’s favorite local bar is filled with the image of artists. Allen Ginsberg, Iggy Pop, Lou Costello. All are from Paterson, and all have left it behind. Walls of Fame are not uncommon, and when looking at them one can get the sense that art is a cloistered thing, meant to be created by a chosen few and for the rest of us to simply admire from afar. But thats not the case. Art exists outside of commerce, outside of fame, outside of ambition. Art exists in your house, your local bar, your laundromat. It exists in every nook and cranny of the world, filling up the soul of humanity and gifting it not immortality but instead a potent mortality that can be shared with those around us or kept deep within our own hearts if that’s where we want it. Art is in every molocule of the air. All it takes to make it yours is to stop for a moment and breathe.