Beauty in Banal Things (True Self, False Self)
I mentioned yesterday how my anti-car scruples have gone more lax in the past few years, with making a living in this urban fabric being the primary impetus. But there’s also the influence of the photographic eye. I don’t remember ever taking photos of cars in Lebanon; in fact, I spent a long time taking photos of buses. Over here, though, it sometimes feels like cars are the only finely-crafted aesthetic objects around. That says a lot about a place. As the closest thing to public art in deserts of the the capitalist real, cars are synecdoches of time and … Continue reading “Beauty in Banal Things (True Self, False Self)” →
