Stories of this Canadian girl's adventures exploring Europe & beyond...join me!

Sunday, March 24, 2013

grafitti good time

Samy. Sam. San. I’m not exactly sure what or who is written on the stairwell outside of our house. What I do know, is that it’s bright, fluorescent green, about four feet high, and so obnoxious that the moment I walk out my front door I see it out of the corner of my eye, as if it’s screaming at me “Hey, here I am!” Right, it’s not as if I want to look at the river, the cathedral or the swans. I want to see this flaming green eyesore when I go outside.

Grafitti can be beautiful, don’t get me wrong. I do consider it art when I see it on a funky warehouse door in New York City or on a train car for three seconds, as it zooms by. Most sprayers are artists and I’m sure they are talented, interesting people. But, I honestly don’t think art should ‘happen’ on private property without the owner’s consent. Maybe it’s just me, but I think that crosses a line.

Anyways, Sam or whoever wrote his or her name on our stairwell, for only us and no one else to see, also happened to leave his prescription eyeglasses lying at the foot of his artwork. It was dark while he was creating; must have been the middle of the night. He was probably tired and so it serves him right that someone else should benefit from his, dare I say it, vandalism.

I got into a discussion about this subject with friends of ours who were over for dinner a couple of nights later. One opinion was, of course, that I should just enjoy the art; the poor artist was just practicing. I wasn’t really aware of how graffiti ‘happens’. Apparently, spray-painting hooligans, or graffiti artists, practice on random surfaces before painting their ‘real’ artwork somewhere special. No one disputed the fact that our private stairwell was a random surface and not the special, ‘public’ area he/she was practicing for.

A couple of weeks later, I was on my usual way to work where I have to walk through an underground passage-way into the centre of town. This underground walkway, where the trains pass overhead, is decorated with town-sanctioned graffiti. And sure enough, I saw some new pieces ‘hanging’ on the wall. There, in all its fluorescent-green glory, was a huge, six-foot, artwork by ‘SAMY’. I stood there for a moment, and I kid you not, the thought ran through my mind, “I could probably contact the town office, find out who this is so that we can return his glasses.” Sometimes, I do think Canadians are just too damn nice.

Two deeper thoughts to leave you with, on this glorious, sunny Sunday:

Teach me how to trust my heart, my mind, my intuition, my inner knowing,
the senses of my body, the blessings of my spirit.
Teach me to trust these things so that I may
enter my sacred space and love beyond my fear
and thus walk in balance with the passing of each glorious sun.
-Lakota prayer

A friend told me I was delusional. I almost fell off my unicorn.

1 comment

  1. Put on your black clothes, wear the forgotten glasses, grab a can of spray paint (colour is your choice!) and channel Samy by adding to his sanctioned art work. After all, you too are an artist and are simply expressing yourself! :) Just don't get caught but leave the glasses behind.


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