Let Them Eat Cake: Where the wild things actually are.

Sometimes I feel like my only friend is the city I live in, the city of angels.

Lonely as I am, together we cry.

I drive on her streets, she's my companion.

I walk through her hills, she knows who I am.

She knows my good deeds, she kisses the windy.

Well, I never worry.

...Now, that's a lie.

Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

Guanajuato, Mexico.

Pretty. Sinister. Te quiero.

The more time I spend wandering the streets of the world, the more fascinated I become with the concept of street culture. Everything once contained within four concrete walls has now spilled out onto the pavement for the proletariat to enjoy. Art once hung on museum walls? Sprayed onto the streets. Concerts, shows, and-the-like formerly held in an array of venues? Performed on the street for all to enjoy. Instead of ordering a ticket, you now toss a bill or two into a hat. Malls no more! Buy your shit from a vendor. Argue a little and the price will be sliced in half, no waiting around for sale.

I find this endlessly curious. For me, this trend became most apparent when I watched a magic show on the street in Amsterdam and the performer pointed out if we had seen the same show in an actual theater, we would have paid much more, yet have watched the same quality show. Now, I have paid admission fees into museums and seen some mediocre artwork, yet on my way out the door I have viewed, free of charge, stunning artwork splashed onto the walls. I've seen cashmere scarves sold on the street for the cost of a sandwich, meanwhile, Banana Republic charged me practically a triple digit figure for my scarf and glove set. Which is beginning to sound better here?

[Not to mention, the coolest kids I know are people I meet on the street. Street people. I love them. They're like upgraded hipsters, I have yet to meet a remotely boring one.]

Perhaps our future lies right outside our doors, right beneath our feet. The Street: something we consider so unfortunate... a place for rats, gutters, those without homes... yet, it contains all these hidden gold mines if you look hard enough. What a postmodern concept, I dig it.