A short ode to event posters

A city is built by its people, brick by brick, memory by memory.
Fortunate enough to live in the centre of Leeds, I'm in a constant state of falling in love with its rough and smooth. Busses that may as well not have a timetable for as much as that helps them show up, cosy book shops where a hello is guaranteed, and no go allys next to potentially the best Vietnamese restaurant an unsuspecting person can find.

This patch-working of bitter and sweet is only complimented by event posters sprawling the city. They're in every crevice. Littering the lampposts with fleeting pieces of art that promise nights of the unknown. Sometimes unintelligible typography, curated clashing colours, illegible mark making - one thing links them all, the feeling of curiosity and sense of sheer want and lost evenings that have made them possible.

DJs adorn these posters, names highlighted that may only be known to those deeply invested in the scene, but otherwise the syllables read as footnotes to the font's that spell them. This is where they differ to the typical gig/event poster. You aren't necessarily going for the acts, you're going for the community space. The surprise. To move your feet in rooms with friends and recognised faces; in this place you go to feel the atmosphere as a whole.