I wanted to walk through the empty streets
And feel something constant under my feet,
But all the news reports recommended that
I stay indoors
Because the air outside will make our cells
Divide at an alarming rate until our shells
Simply cannot hold all our insides in,
And that’s when we’ll explode
(and it won’t be a pretty sight)

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29mar15. Kamianets-Podilskyi, Ukraine.


“I’ve got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water,
And pictures of you and I’m not coming out
Until this is all over
And I’m looking through the glass where the light bends
At the cracks
And I’m screaming at the top of my lungs pretending
The echoes belong to someone
Someone I used to know…”

~The Postal Service “We Will Become Silhouettes”

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29mar15. Kamianets-Podilskyi, Ukraine.


I am thinking it’s a sign
That the freckles in our eyes
Are mirror images and when
We kiss they’re perfectly aligned

And I have to speculate
That God himself did make
Us into corresponding shapes
Like puzzle pieces from the clay

And true, it may seem like a stretch,
But its thoughts like this that catch
My troubled head when you’re away
When I am missing you to death

~The Postal Service “Such Great Heights”

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29mar15. Kamianets-Podilskyi, Ukraine.


In my continued efforts to share information and insight about international street art, I try very hard to get direct translations from the natives of whatever particular country I happen to be in at the time. Here is a verbatim text chat I had last night with my main translator in Ukraine. Confusion abounds, to say the least. But, eventually the answer will be revealed.

Vlad: Flower. Holland national flower. Tulip.

Jackie: Does it say “Tulip?”

V: I’ve just translated it. Is it a flower “tulip?”

J: You’re being mean in English. Softer. It says specifically, “Is it a flower tulip?”

V: No no no. It was a question. Is it a flower?

J: It says “Is it a flower?” It’s a question?

V: No. I’m asking you.

J: Just WHAT does the Cyrillic say?!

V: Wait. From the beginning…

J: What does the yellow say?! That’s all!

V: So, I don’t know what it says, BUT I know that word means ‘flower.’ Special flower. I think it is ‘tulip.’

J: So, “flower?”

V: Yes. BUT ‘Special Flower.’ Like, you know, ‘camomile.’ That particular flower is a tulip.

J: Fuck it. I don’t know what to write. I just want to know the EXACT translation of the yellow word!!!!

V: Tulip.

J: Wow.

V: Who is mean now?

J: Lol. Literally. Thank you for that. Omg. I needed to laugh.

V: You’re welcome.

The End.

So, you can see, the answer was actually in the first sentence.

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29mar15. Kamianets-Podilskyi, Ukraine.


Unexpectedly alone and out of sorts exploring a foreign town, I felt compelled to listen to my favorite album of all-time over and over on the trip.

“Smeared black ink… your palms are sweaty
And I’m barely listening to last demands
I’m staring at the asphalt wondering what’s buried underneath
Where I am”

~ The Postal Service “The District Sleeps Alone Tonight”

ngf 049 ngf 048 ngf 051 ngf 052 ngf 054                                                                 “Choose familiar faces”

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29mar15. Kamianets-Podilskyi, Ukraine.