I just went on a wee walk through my city. I mean 'WEE' as in 1 mile. I'm not that adventurous. To go further would involve a bike or a car. When I was walking under one of our many bridges, I was welcomed by a blaze of colour. It's not exactly Graffiti..or, is it? I thought Graffiti was just a load of nasty word and haiku's by angry people. Also, I don't include names with phone numbers in the 'Graffiti' department.
So, instead I was facing a huge slab of cement painted brightly with warped faces, odd backgrounds and a few 'words of inspiration'. Lucky for me, I had my swingin' camera! So, I decided to go further, into the darkness of a place called 'UNDER THE BRIDGE'. I was in awe of all the murals, spreading from section to section. But, there were also the homeless leaning against these 'big messages of humanity'. The messages were as hidden as the lost men and women.
There are murals all over my city. Some are not splattered paint on cement in raw homesteads. Some are actually gentle reminders of free expression done by children or familys. The nice thing about this is 'freedom of expression'. You can't even look at one mural for a minute without 'thinking' about the message behind the blast of colours. And, are these budding artists or just kids with paint and brush filling in empty spaces of time?
I've seen our Hydro Electrical boxes painted, the mailboxes, sides of restaurants, construction sites and even, on a hot day... human bodies.
It all started with finger painting. You know you put paint on your face as a kid. We are born messengers. We paint to share a message. 'Lord of the Flies', warrior children out of control, forming savage life by painting murals on their faces resonating in rage and confusion.
And Jackson Pollock. Angry, drunk and amazing.... taking a huge canvas tossing bottles and tins of paint or thrashing his large brush up, down and across to become celebrated and noteworthy for life. Maybe I should drink more and get angry, then head off to Benjamen Moores!
So, why aren't these kids under the bridge as celebrated as Jackson Pollock or even Vincent Van Gogh? They have visions, there 'art' is a slice of 'the times we live in' no different from great artists of the past who reflected 'their times?'. What makes an Artist an Artist? I have no idea. We all just 'know what we like' and I liked the art under the bridge.
My Uncle Buzz is an amazing painter. He uses oils on canvas and has painted many light-houses, cedar trees and native scenes. His work, in my eyes, surpassed Emily Carr. But, not having a monkey, trailer and cool background story he only gets 1,000's of dollars for his work. He started from humble beginnings using charcoal or pencils on scraps of paper. Later, he would head a well-known Advertising Agency...the real MADMEN!
I only took one Art class in college and was shamed by it. I went into being told to FEEL THE ENERGY (whatever that meant). We had this nude in the middle of the room. I blushed as I only saw a nude woman exposed in front of many strangers. But, the teacher said, 'don't look at her as a nude woman', see the curves, the shades of colour, the angles, the movement (she was still..what movement?) OH, movement of our minds!
So, I did it! I thought it was pretty good too. I kept it for years in storage until a flood soaked it and turned it into a page of grey tones. I decided, after my walk, that I liked the spontaneity of art by unknowns.
Just pure mind-boggling slabs of cement coated in colour with stories to be told. I wondered if my Uncle Buzz ever sat under a bridge with a can of paint. I bet he did!
If I ever loose my job, I may join the budding boys under the bridge and 'share my thoughts!'
SAVE THE WHALES!!
And remember: The Killer Whale is 'not' a whale it is the largest of dolphins!So, SAVE THE DOLPHINS TOO!
I just went on a wee walk through my city. I mean 'WEE' as in 1 mile. I'm not that adventurous. To go further would involve a bike or a car. When I was walking under one of our many bridges, I was welcomed by a blaze of colour. It's not exactly Graffiti..or, is it? I thought Graffiti was just a load of nasty word and haiku's by angry people. Also, I don't include names with phone numbers in the 'Graffiti' department.
There are murals all over my city. Some are not splattered paint on cement in raw homesteads. Some are actually gentle reminders of free expression done by children or familys. The nice thing about this is 'freedom of expression'. You can't even look at one mural for a minute without 'thinking' about the message behind the blast of colours. And, are these budding artists or just kids with paint and brush filling in empty spaces of time? 
I've seen our Hydro Electrical boxes painted, the mailboxes, sides of restaurants, construction sites and even, on a hot day... human bodies.
It all started with finger painting. You know you put paint on your face as a kid. We are born messengers. We paint to share a message. 'Lord of the Flies', warrior children out of control, forming savage life by painting murals on their faces resonating in rage and confusion.
I only took one Art class in college and was shamed by it. I went into being told to FEEL THE ENERGY (whatever that meant). We had this nude in the middle of the room. I blushed as I only saw a nude woman exposed in front of many strangers. But, the teacher said, 'don't look at her as a nude woman', see the curves, the shades of colour, the angles, the movement (she was still..what movement?) OH, movement of our minds!
So, I did it! I thought it was pretty good too. I kept it for years in storage until a flood soaked it and turned it into a page of grey tones. I decided, after my walk, that I liked the spontaneity of art by unknowns. 
Just pure mind-boggling slabs of cement coated in colour with stories to be told. I wondered if my Uncle Buzz ever sat under a bridge with a can of paint. I bet he did!
If I ever loose my job, I may join the budding boys under the bridge and 'share my thoughts!'
These are amazing Will!
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