Art Crimes
A passing train whizzes by
Large wind turbine blades race at me like missiles
Saddled cargo frames an artistist's vision
Steel on steel muted by paint on cement
Crying "When creative minds turn to crime."
A passing train whizzes by
Large wind turbine blades race at me like missiles
Saddled cargo frames an artistist's vision
Steel on steel muted by paint on cement
Crying "When creative minds turn to crime."
So today, I burned through a quarter tank of gas scouting for graffiti. In a Prius, this means a lot of driving only to realize how very sanitized this town is. I can see evidence of what was once someone's crime art. But every wall, fence, semi trailer, back alley trash can, and underpass has been Disneyfied. The world appears to be perfect here in Loveland. It's as though we have painted over all records of our pain. We have wiped from the collective conscience any signs of war, sadness, boredom, class warfare, racism, and homelessness.
This is not me promoting vandalism. I have no appreciation for those who deface another person's property or a beautiful national monument. Nor am I saying that all graffiti art is about these human conditions. But when did life become so sanitized?
This was a shot I took from a rooftop in Fort Collins about a year ago. I didn't appreciate its dystopian quality of it until today.
This week is graffiti and I can tell already it is going to take me WAY out of my comfort zone. I shot this one yesterday at an underpass in Fort Collins. I noticed as I was out scouting around, I felt just a little more edgy than usual. I don't know if was the nature of the art or the location but the subversiveness was palpable.
I live in a fairly graffiti free town where the city commissions artist to paint on utility boxes in an effort to deter graffiti artists from using them as their canvases. Still, every once in awhile, I have run across an area of town where the spray painters go crazy. This is one of those places.