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atolemdro

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There is something about poverty that smells like death. Dead dreams dropping off the heart like leaves in a dry season and rotting around the feet; impulses smothered too long in the fetid air of underground caves. The soul lives in a sickly air. People can be slave-ships in shoes.

zora neale hurston from her autobiography dust tracks on a road sometimes with art & communication, people choose between substance and presentation.  this is an uncompromising blend of both.

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“there is something about poverty that smells like death”

08/05/14 , , , , , , , ,

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