Goodbye Morning

Only once in every blue moon comes an artist that seems so familiar yet out of space. Love arrives an enigma, a crooning, haunted voice. A person who peers into himself to reveal something about the world that might otherwise go unarmed, or perhaps merely felt and never properly articulated. I see Calvin at an intersection in every city on earth, unmasking the hidden wonder, and the past as construed by movies and the archetypes that populate our minds.
The hitchhiker. The gentle, supple poet whose aim is to elucidate humanity for the weary denizens of the weary world. He proves that in the form of cartoon darkness there is a reality beyond that which is fully amenable to basic speech, and so must be corralled in blind faith in a palette. All great artwork depends on a palette, on the choices that one makes in pulling the shades of that palette into one’s control out of a sense of belief that I don't understand. He is a rare gift that more than so much of what we're forced to consume offers a vision.

Goodbye Morning

CALVIN LOVE