I’m in an Uber heading back from Boston. My bank has frozen my account, bless them, fuck them. I’m not stranded. I’ve got an overdraft on my Starling, hence the Uber. Barclays would have me stuck in Boston for my own “protection and safety”. Because, like HSBC, they are trying to shut down competition at the expense of their customers.
Thank God I’ve got accounts with banks that are more evolved than the one I thought might be amusing to go with because of my name. HSBC did the same thing to Katherine a few weeks ago around her new Monzo. It’s the old monoliths deliberately trying to shake faith in the new contenders, by inconveniencing their own customers. I’m trying not to spend from my main account, which is Barclays, because it’s so much cheaper in terms of fees and charges if I go through Monzo or Starling.
Katherine and I hit a train into town from Wellesley. We didn’t have any plans. I thought I might catch a friend in town so I’d left the day pretty loose. We decided breakfast was important so we found South Street Diner and I ordered Eggs Benedict. Great way to start the Boston day. We had no choice, really, but to be tourists. We only had one day in the city, as happens on this tour with too many cities. I’d like to have spent more time in Boston. I was hoping that a friend who lives there might help our haphazard itinerary. But as it turned out it was us vs the city. We got a lot done.
Walking. It’s a good city for walking, Boston. It’s much more organic and walkable than many of the newer cities we have been bouncing around in. Katherine and I pounded the streets a little and it was satisfying to pound streets that are poundable. We had no real destination so we just bounced around. I like pinballing myself around an unfamiliar city and Katherine was a good companion for that. We ended up at the ICA. We wanted to see Yayoi Kusama but she had been booked out months ago. We watched and experienced a bunch of stuff instead.
Whenever I consume somebody else’s art a part of me always wonders where my particular art in that medium lies. It seems my art is twofold at the moment. To live a life. To write about it. But there’s so much more to be made. Of course I make stories with time. Time is my primary medium. Then it’s whatever. My face. My voice. Your head. Hello, I am time face head bazzzzzaaaaaam. The bulk of my art dies the moment it’s created and I don’t give a fuck about it until some tit with a suit on asks me to prove myself.
Words. I just hope that people get something out of this ongoing deluge. I’m tired tonight. Of course I want you to go “I get this” about this human I’ve become and the thoughts I’m expressing. But I’m done now. Night.