The start of something new, the ready embrace of a new aesthetic, or sort of new anyway, as there was already Memphis Design, and further back, Bauhaus, and Art Deco, to capture the searching eye. But this was new to us, and therefore self-righteously ours, and artists live for renewal, and we dove in with our pencils and paints, guitars and synths, sewing machines and scissors.
Seeing the world as we wanted it to look, and to be, provided the inspiration to create, and dedication to craft provided the responsibility to create well. And then there was something else just floating in the misty morning air, that feeling of change, that is possibility, that is hope, that got us out of bed even on mornings that followed the darker nights.
There was a newness in morning itself, after what seemed like a decade of twilight. And on the morning sidewalks, I’d see people gathering, dancing, busting; horseplay really, and then someone new would pass by, wearing something new, looking different than anyone ever passing by before…