That's All.

but does it float? Read More......

Point, counterpoint, counter-counterpoint: graffiti bureaucracy and graffiti.

Shepard Fairy was arrested in Boston a week or so back during his largest show to date, which Wooster Collective provided a good account of. This is on top of the copyright kerfuffle his Obama poster has generated, which has provided food for thought.

This latest development is amazing to me. Faced with all the depressing, bureaucratic bullshit that our media/justice apparatus is composed of, what does Fairey do? Keeps right at it, right at the heart.





These billboards were installed around the Boston area. They are an exquisite reminder to me that all that matters is passion, and that you can refute politics with poetics. People will be listening.

This century, by no fault of its own, is gonna try and squash you down in the tension between the enormity of the world and the fragility of its human structures. Keep yo' head up.

via, via, via, photos by Hargo, who took this little jem as well:
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Mystic Kohinay on 6th West.

Today I met a Mystic, walking along 6th west down where the road ceases to be city territory and slips into the industrial unknown. Trax is there and the freeway's overhead but it's still thin enough and motley enough to seem like a bit of the netherworld.

I was biking home at a good clip, and passed right by a seated figure in the bike lane. It could have been a statue, if statues were allowed in such places. As I zipped by, dodging traffic, all I caught was an impression of leopard-skin print and many layers, glasses and a pirate's 3-sided hat. I kept riding, double-checking when I could, thinking to myself "whatever that was, it looked like a mystic!" and also thinking "I don't know why I didn't stop and say hello..."

Well I got to Captain Captain studios before I decided I HAD to turn back, and I ran into Tessa Lindsey. Tessa looked busy, running into the studio, but I still shouted "Tessa! Do you have a bike inside!"
"Yeah" she said, halfway through the door.
"Come on an adventure two blocks away!"
"How good of an adventure?"
"A really good adventure!" I said.
Tessa ran inside and grabbed her Schwinn Prelude, which is almost twins with my Super-Sport. We biked for the two blocks, but my mystic was gone. Tessa went back to work. I went to find the mystic.

I found him two blocks further up sixth, walking along, folding chair in hand. He was still in the bike lane, nearer to the trains where it's all gravel and the big diesel engines click-click-click day and night. He's a grizzled old man with trinkets around his neck, a series of brass horns, and robes robes robes stitched together with all matter of patterns.
"Hello!" I said.
"Hello!" He said. He had flashing gnome eyes under his glasses.
"I don't often see real-live mystics," I said, "I'm Davey." I shook his hand.
"I'm Ko-ko-kohinay" he said, and immediately put two of the old brass horns to his mouth. "BOP! BOP! BOP!" went the two horns in a perfect major chord like boats in the fog, reverberating all around and causing pigeons on the idling train cars to take flight. He swapped one horn for another and played the octave of the first, "BAAP! BAAP! BAAP!"
"Hi Kohinay," I said. "You woke up all the doves." He didn't correct me.
He smiled.
"I biked by earlier, but had to check if you were real. You never can tell." I said.
He smiled.
"See you later," I said.
"See you soon," He said.

A pair of homeless folk nearby coughed and chuckled. Two Latino workers swerved around us on BMX bikes.
I biked back home.

Next time I meet him, I'm going to see if I can take his picture, to make sure he's really real. But Tessa says she's seen him before and she's a pretty serious lady, in her own way. Read More......

Poor Photoshopping.

There's a perfectly reasonable explanation to this, I promise.


Wait, no there isn't. Read More......