jens, be a gentleman!

This is what happens when I leave my dad alone with my records for an extended period of time. Apparently somebody finds himself to be pretty amusing. Pretty amusing indeed.

on those walls

A recent blurb about Keith Haring got me thinking about the functions of public/street art vs. "art art." Is street art meant to be preserved? Or does part of its beauty lie in the fact that is it so reliant on its environment–both a product and a victim of this public space. Buildings decay, taggers tag, posters come up and go down, or get covered by more posters...
I'm looking forward to hunting this down this summer–WACK! A Keith Haring classic.Keith Haring made both a street/public art and "regular" arty art, but always tried to make his art accessible to the masses, not simply the bourgeoisie. This is important...What defines street art vs. graffiti? Is there a clear distinction, besides terms of legality? The lines between "street art/graffiti" and high art have also become blurred, and street art styles are stripped from their original environment. Brad Pitt at a Banksy opening? Suburban kids tagging posters in their garages? Can street art/graffiti art still be relevant when it is entirely lacking in its original environment–that of a public space? 

The beauty of public art, especially graffiti, is it's dependance on its environment–its immediacy, spontaneity, and consequent ephemerality. It gains more meaning throughout time, through its decay and potential defacement by others. Check out super old school Fab 5 Freddy...rediscovered! Also, read more about this topic. The battles between street artists wage on, the criticism from high artists continues. This continuous dialogue is important...
One thing, however, remains clear: The facade of 40 Bond Street, a new luxury townhouse building in Manhattan is derive from graffiti forms. The building, designed by Swiss architects Herzog & de Meuron is beautiful, but it is also incredibly disjointed. I'm guessing the residents of the luxury condominiums would be rather displeased if actual street artists put up tags and posters all over the front of their bright shiny new building. 40 Bond baffles me. 

unconscious.subconscious

(2 hour phone conversation with one of my favorites)

Conversations of self, conversations of others, sense out of nonsense...

CANARY

by Rita Dove

Billie Holiday's burned voice

had as many shadows as lights,

a mournful candelabra against a sleek piano,

the gardenia her signature under that ruined face.

(Now you're cooking, drummer to bass,

magic spoon, magic needle.

Take all day if you have to

with your mirror and your bracelet of song.)

Fact is, the invention of women under siege 

has been to sharpen love in the service of myth

If you can't be free, be a mystery.

april sunrises bring...

Animal poetry! By Sy Kahn, plus a bit of fun with clip art. This congruent little spread is now complete. 

ºººPlease click on above image to readººº

the state that i am in

today i: lost my water bottle. forgot my keys, and my laptop charger, and my snacks. ran a red light, and fell down a flight of stairs. but i am still standing here telling you about it, and that is all that matters, really.

at least it didn't rain

The Earth Fair Bake Sale didn't go quite as planned. I learned its hard to hold your head up high in 50 mph winds, and large binder clips come in handy for a number of reasons. Thank you to those who stopped by to support a very important cause–it meant a lot to me. Sow the Seeds will surely benefit from your dollars and cents. Special thanks also to Tuesday for your help, and for your mad hula hooping skills.

i present to you once again...shortbread

Shortbread has been working her tails and strokes and stems off this past week, allowing me to deconstruct and put her forms to good use. The original Shortbread letterforms were pared down and turned into the headline for screenprinted posters advertising the upcoming bake sale at the MCAD Earth Fair. 

what was old is now new

After some dusting, air in the tires, and a few minor tune-ups, this foxy lady is ready for her springtime debut. I am now the official owner of a single speed Schwinn cruiser–a classic granny bike. A special thanks to my neighbor Cindy for the gift. 
A quick message to the United States Department of Treasury: This is certainly old news to you, but I had my first glimpse of the new Lincolns today and my oh my are they delightful! That purple five–in Helvetica? Those flying yellow 05's! Skrilla this fine shouldn't be spent.

a whole lot of mystery

ONE: "The beginning of Cranston's Adventure–the real adventure, not the intrigue–seemed as sudden and grotesque as a queer twist in a dream. The night was very still, and the empty sea as it rose and fell gently under a great low moon sighed like a woman half-awake–sighed and then stretched out cold fingers of surf to the young man's naked body sprawled on the cold sand..."

Oh la la! Quel suspens!

NEW old 1930 Nancy's! Great illustrations, great couch pattern...She's fighting crime, perfectly coiffed. 

Proof: I've always been a super sleuth. Little Aimee gumshoe notes, circa 1996? What a great find this was. 

april (snow/ice)showers bring...

Ice storms on 10 April. It just so happens I am sick of being. 

ºººWalking Around by Pablo Neruda, please click on the poorly scanned page to readººº

I need my inhaler

Dust. Pollen. My inherent distrust. Mold. Cold. An amplification of faults. Forced Air. Fear of potential. Gossip. Self-destruction. Kitten dander, sometimes. Mineral spirits. Self-denial. The ego of the privileged. Abandonment. Manipulation. Second hand smoke. Pollution. Chlorine. Doing without thinking. Thinking inwards. Grotesque productivity. Or more a lack thereof... 

I am looking at you and seeing a blueprint of Armageddon, and that is why I must leave before I decide to stay. 

april showers bring...

A LIGHT IN THE MOON

by Gertrude Stein

A light in the moon the only light is on Sunday. What was the sensible decision. The sensible decision was that notwithstanding many declarations and more music, not even withstanding the choice and a torch and a collection, notwithstanding the celebrating hat and a vacation and even more noise than cutting, notwithstanding Europe and Asia and being overbearing, not even withstanding an elephant and a strict occasion, not even withstanding more cultivation and some season, not even drowning and with the ocean being encircling, not even with more likeness and any cloud, not even with terrific sacrifice of pedestrianism and a special resolution, not even more likely to be pleasing. The care with which the rain is wrong and the green is wrong and the white is wrong, the care with which there is a chair and plenty of breathing. The care with which there is incredible justice and likeness, all this makes a magnificent asparagus, and also a fountain. 

ºººillustration by Monica Canilao, check her out please if you have a momentººº

street corner conversation

I met a young man yesterday, age of 19, while waiting for the red to turn to green. He screamed at me with threats of hell, a gust of wind at my neck. Young man, I turned, why are you yelling? What are you? Who are you? That is when he gave me this. That is when he asked my name. That is when he asked me what I believed. And I told him I admired him, young man, age of 19, for believing in something, which was better than nothing. But...Could he please stop yelling? Could he please stop threatening? The world was swirling. I saw the green, and ran far far away...

The ways to communicate are infinite.

The possibilities of belief are immense. 

How do we choose to communicate?

Why do we choose to believe?

Every foot pounding pavement has a story.

This is what I believe.

ºººFor more stories, go here and hereººº

april is

Front and back of a 'zine page made for a High School Graphic Design course I took at MCAD back in the summer of 2002, taught by none other than Kindra Murphy! Quite funny I chose this poem, given the state of my naive little head at age 16.

Bizaare distorted photocopy (Ed Fella would be proud?) I found recently of an old favorite: Having a Coke with You by Frank O'Hara. 

Throughout the month of April I will try my best to celebrate the alignment arrangement amusement enjoyment of words with a few scattered showers of poetry. Stay tuned...