no way out I stood on the steps of San Francisco City Hall. From where I stood, I could see a good chunk of the city. I was feeling overwhelmed with my surroundings, the way buildings, advertising, or popular music were designed to present a certain image of the world, and conceal everything else—all the stuff that didn't fit, including me. I gestured to the skyline and told my friend Ed, "All of this was put here to make us think a certain way. It's intrusive. I want to be alone with my thoughts, but there's always a billboard, a piece of architecture trying to get my attention—and I'm a sucker, I'm taken in every time. I give it my attention, then I realize it isn't for me at all, it's for people who still believe in this stuff. For me it's a nuisance, but I can't shake it, it's everywhere. I want to block it out, but it won't let me. There's no way out." Ed told me I had the wrong attitude. "If you think like an artist, it will no longer control you. Those things are materials. You don't have to accept them the way they are. You can modify them, change their relationships. They're not absolute."
	location: Bowling Green, Ohio date: Winter 1992–1993 average rating: [not rated] your rating (0-10):