(pic by listener Alex Lewis)
I’m walking through Union Square en route to meet Scrap, and there’s a Japanese girl sitting at a card table with a sign: “Give Me Your STRESS for My ART.”
I stop. How do I give you my stress?
She pushes a card and a pencil towards me and tells me to write down what’s stressing me out. I write Judgement of my music.
She draws the outline of a bird-fish over my handwriting, and then fills in the space around it with blue; paints the bird-fish yellow; gently flicks white paint over the picture; affixes a little heart sticker over the word music, the faint outline of which is the only word left visible.
She hands me the card. Do I owe you something?
“I accept donations.”
I get ten bucks out of my wallet.
“That’s too much,” she says.
No, that’s OK, it’s not so much for me.
She smiles and thanks me. “You don’t take it home,” she says.
“You take the art home, but leave the stress.”