Beach Party in an art gallery parking lot 🏝️

Who needs water when you’ve got weird art, lawn chairs, and a cooler full of BYOB? I'll bask in the soft glow of asphalt while singing songs about spiritual crises and interstate metaphors. I’ll strum poetry in a parking lot behind an art gallery, where the only tide is emotional and the lifeguard is a folding chair. There's no sand, but maybe an inflatable palm tree.