A different alley every night, her favorite nights when the moon was full.
Convention and expectation were in a greasy bag, tucked behind the seat where they would remain.
She had removed the stock faceplate from the radio and replaced it with a homemade kaleidoscope.
She had no use for numbers or tiny vertical dashes.
She wanted melodies that rumbled and percussion that hummed and voices that asked her questions from wherever they emanated.
She was in a vehicle, sure. But she was in a Detroit steel sanctuary and the speakers were more important than the odometer would ever be.
***
Art by Carmel Liburdi
Author’s Note:
My friend Carmel creates music, art, apparel, laughter, and full-on joy. She posted this picture on her socials and I knew immediately I wanted to write something inspired by it. I didn’t ask the medium or specifics. I didn’t care. I wrote two and Carmel picked this one. Our friend Jacob is also writing a piece inspired by it. It’s that kind of organic creative pinballing that makes Detroit such an amazing place to live.
Most of Carmel’s truly diverse creative endeavors can be found by clicking here. I strongly encourage you to do so. You might find your new favorite song or drawing or…
Love it!
I fucking love this.