50,000 years ago dancers wearing horns emerged to sing and
shake before the rearing mountains and clouds. Dance over they receded, like other animals,
into the thorn. Today our
vistas are windows and walls, endlessly refracting the insistent clichés of
street advertising. Only in
graffiti is there spontaneous eruption.
Graffiti, often obnoxious and insulting, is outside the grid. Some is as huge and complex in
context as panorama - sweeps of energy in tapestries of piled up scripts.
As I paint my animal lines into these matted graffiti covered walls, I feel kinship with neolithic artists who drew on un-tamed raw surfaces - an echo of the deep past. For the last year my street drawings have dotted lower Manhattan. Most of this work does not last long, usually erased in a few days by new posters or paint.
As I paint my animal lines into these matted graffiti covered walls, I feel kinship with neolithic artists who drew on un-tamed raw surfaces - an echo of the deep past. For the last year my street drawings have dotted lower Manhattan. Most of this work does not last long, usually erased in a few days by new posters or paint.