love letter [straight from the gutter]

graff on, graff off

in the beginning there was a pole. outside the corner shop. punk monk propaganda's HQ. our hive, the hub of all things punk monk. 

it was a happy bunkwaa pole. for a time. the sticker gradually changed & generated a rainbow of faded hues from being kissed by the sun over & over again as it surrendered its punk pinkness to the street.

then the graffiti removalists came... [again]

and cleaned up the streets... 


until the beautification pixies come back out to play once more. they surround us & see all.

respect. the abandoned dunlop factory.

typograffiti. the next phase...

 gloves off.

we're going for a ride...

into the derelict bowels of what once was the production factory of shoes & tennis racquets. the long abandoned and still surviving slazenger dunlop building. abandoned by some.

take a seat and enjoy the ever changeable view:

 it's no hard...

a hide 'n seek wet dream.

exploring through the warrenlike tunnels reveals increasingly storm damaged caverns which invite dappled rays of neon light dancing with the layers of painted tagged love. magic eyes abound.

it can't be long before this treasure trove of aerosol celebration is no more. in the interim it stands like an irreverent totem much like a modern day chauvet. the moving sun, the fire of old enabling shadows to embolden & animate the art. the sea of cans which litter the ground testament to those who have come & created before.

each corner turned reveals endless discoveries. 

 where shadows creep into the light  

and the outside encroaches in. a happy juxtaposition.

 beauty mirrored in a thousand shattered reflections.

know thyself...

and thine can. the equalising tool. all are masters here.

crees free

secret wars - round 4: shannon crees vs vars one.

in the beginning there were two blank canvases. and a shitload of roaring peeps. hardcore graf artists, paste-up kids & hipsters & wannabes rubbing shoulders with groupies, corporate cling-ons & the curious who just heard that graffiti got cool.

the rules: one massive artistic diss off. in ninety minutes. use your black posca pen or paint to pimp your talent with the objective of winning the crowd noisemeter. and the judges. take no prisoners.

inside jokes & popular culture references rule.

a crowd of almost 500 drink & watch nouveaux rock stars reign supreme onstage. it's a good time to flash your backpack spray can in a flourish to wouldbe converts & get laid. electricity mounts.

the artist visions come to fruition as the clock ticks. some disrespectful bitches get in our way & we stomp all over their asses. respect your elders. and we are so much older... they move on.

the paint flies on deftly wielded brushes. can you tell shannon [this season's sole femme] has my vote?

she finishes after pulling a couple of last minute swifties. see mars to vars et al. and then watches vars apply the finishing touches to his masterpiece.

the crowd heaves & hos like a rhythmic football crowd. thankfully the music is better than ricky martin, with considerably less brawn & more brain. for some more than others. 

we meet a 21 year old who is having his birthday. he thinks i am swedish. i casually destroy his fantasy. he showers us in beer & moves on. everything is OK. but the old school crowd is in transition as accessibility of the art increases. secret wars is getting successful. this commercial ascension is often problematic.

but the art is still fucking great [and shannon wins].

shower tag

no incentive to clean.

graffiti with nature

graffiti is often credited with being spawned from urban sprawl & popularised in the 70s political meets gang "pioneering" movement which traversed the city of new york spilling out into its streets & subways.

but this is not the case at all. like almost everything in this alleged fifth age of the sun, our history is that of reinvention. the desire & ability to make a mark, artistically impress, juxtapose or tag our environment has roots steeped in the very origins of humankind. ancient tribal mementos still stain paths of ochre in caves from humanity's earliest days.

so called higher & lower forms of art wedged into close association with those who have come before & after sharing the same canvas. it is refreshing to embrace the space & take the art back from whence it once came. 

there are pros & cons to having more space on a dance floor. either results in entirely different forms of experimental expressionism. but more elbow room is wonderful. a different rhythm is afforded when there's room to groove. and fresh air/canvas to breathe.

i follow craig bunker AKA bunkwaa, beloved graffiti artist, preferred alien & lightbearer of laughter. his icons are ubiquitous in the inner west scape of sydney & adelaide too but today his creatures are way out of town on a new-found quest. it is the beginning. the place of doors. we're not on google maps now dorothy.

the objective according to bunkwaa: is making the familar unfamilar, playing with the environment. reacting & responding to it.

nature versus nurture. escape from the hedonism of jungles urban. reverted expansionism starts here, graffiti style.

the bunkwaa characters are erroneous entities that dwell in the hidden folds of this dimension. they live off the energy that comes from human emotions & desires. in a forest once we leave, do they even still exist. or will they self-sustain & take-over?

this little guy obviously belongs here.

there's limited documentation of other current artists working with natural scapes although i've really been enjoying the work of erik myxa [halitov] a siberian graffiti artist whose work is really inspiring if not somewhat upscale.

copyright: erik myxa [halitov] - the freedom series

 copyright: erik myxa [halitov] ЗИМА series

Свобода - Зима from 3avideo on Vimeo.

russia actually has a really cool scene. not since christo and jeanne-claude have i seen such awesome, fun & ultimately subversive environmental based works of art.

christo & jeanne claude [the christos] were popular heroes in my youth. i pinned their work on my walls & fell in love with their politicized artworks which ran amok over world landscapes.

viewed by millions of people, the umbrella series segregated & unified perception throughout continents where the work was featured in blue [japan] and yellow [USA] & enabled people to interact beyond their vehicle with not just the installations but the social, cultural and physical restrictions which typified the bureaucratic functions which they sought to illustrate metaphorically. one had to travel not just emotionally to engage with their works.

who is to say which is the alien? the motifs, the man, or the environment...