Foreword — Evan Vidar
March 16, 2015

when you make a pizza, you start with the toppings.

at least i do… how couldn’t i? it’s 9AM on a friday and the inspiration to make pizza that evening strikes. pizza for friends. an evening for pizza. an evening for friends. a pizza is a pizza is a pizza. but i like for things to be novel. a pizza is an opportunity! a problem to be solved, a void to be filled, a glass ceiling to be broken. why can’t i make a chicken jalapeño with barbecue sauce pizza? last time, cheeseless with mushrooms, onions, and olive tapenade. next time, bacon, green apple, and blue cheese. i don’t want to think too hard about it. it’s an intuitive move. it’s a game of speed chess. i may not even taste the pizza before my guests do.

every moment of your life has led to this one.

circumstances align. molecules rub. and in a grand cacophony of clouds and caffeine and sunshine and repose, life is beautiful. the world is still. it’s as if your heart has slowed and time has stuttered. and you want it so bad to stop. don’t you?

music: a looking glass. a kitchen timer. a map.

a record of a moment in time. a sentiment, distilled. a passing thought, like “i’ll make a honey chipotle pulled pork with okra and poblano pepper pizza", poses some kind of bearing on future moments. suddenly the moment on the porch with the cup of coffee is not still and it is not lost. it is but a moment as independent as it is absolutely pivotal.

who captures the moments? in a world obsessed with holding on, we work hard to let go. who will be the shaman? who will venture out in the moonlight to hunt the great beast? who will share the bounty? who will tell the story?

the artist is at once human and not human. living and lifeless. awake and asleep. of flesh and of nature. the artist juggles anvils whilst walking down a spiral staircase. the artist has their cake but does not eat it. the artist is the rose and the thorn. the artist understands everything and nothing.

here is “evil”

like julian says, bring your feelings


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