Fateful Blunt Evening
//:some outtakes from this fateful evening to compliment @world___music__ post; I saw an interesting comment under their post that prompted me to comb these up and perhaps attempt a retelling of the evening, which in some respect felt like being in a celestial noosphere ala Chardin. fate actually interjected itself days prior to this early summer dalliance in ā22 when the homie GRAVE spotted the enigma swaggering down Norfolkāstymied in his tracks by the baffling passions youād witness from a pious actor in reverence, he yelped āDEAN!ā, much to my repressed dismay.
this n*gga GRAVE loves cold pulling up from 3 like thatādecorum be damned. he jogged up with the type of frivolity seldom seen from him and got an audience; he caught wind he was in town to perform. for whom or whatāand whereāstill alluded us but if thereās a career form that can claim GRAVE and I it would be these types of thingsāyāknow, sleuthing around the downtowns searching for āthe good wordā.
and the good word came in the form of ZHU, the āmultihyphenated fixtureā amongst downtownās bravest as heās become affectionately known, who I believe at the time officially ran with Supreme, probably still doesāand such was the word; āsupremeā. The Fateful Evening was to occur at Angel Orensanz on the occasion of some June summer evening where the light was most dilated.
maison mobilization had the crew welded like barbecue metal, and it was on. a rare occasion; R, Leek, me, and of courseāGRAVEāpulled up to the fine institute heralded for its pantheon of performance and cultural endeavor and everyone I had ever known in New York City was there, and wasnāt. the night rendered lurched like a fever dream, no one even knew whether or not Dean was going to perform. people swayed about the synagogue hall like shell shocked soldiers on the shores of Normandy; part intoxication, part inspirited by anticipation. open barāyou know how that goes.
-cont. in comments-
