ferry to staten island, and then a 30 minute walk to this splintering marsh graveyard.

made a pit-stop at the lana santorelli gallery on my way home this evening. this piece by edina todoki caught my eye. i immediately thought of banksy’s “girl & balloon” - a more simplified version, of course. from far away, i judged it. what a cop-out. how does one attempt to imitate banksy? in a gallery, nonetheless. it’s claim to challenge the great doesn’t even fit into proper context! bah.

i leaned into a side-step to turn and walk away when i noticed its slight discoloration. something about its uneven application made me swirl back and foot forward for closer inspection.

it’s moss! … interesting? pretty cool, but what else? i still found myself reluctant to honor this todoki kid among the ranks of the infamous graffiti repertoire. still, i wanted to learn more about the piece and its artist.

apparently, “wind” was created specifically for this space. apparently, most of her works are actually living pieces that exist in random locations throughout the city, this urban landscape.

living pieces. a few months ago, i read an article on the growing practice of “moss graffiti”. more of a recipe than an article, really (of course. we’re in a DIY state of… economy). i sort of want to try it, myself.

so, if banksy creates pieces for social commentary on politics, freedom, animals and such… then todoki, in all her eco-conscious guerrilla glory, generates similar dialogue… but even better. in moss! high five, lady. while banksy wields his aerosol, todoki nurtures her green into living, interactive pieces and reminds us [urbanites] of the part of life from which we can be most detached: nature.

it’s fascinating, really. not just the fact that the deficiencies in our landscape are highlighted by her work… but also the process as it begins and ends (or lives) in public display. it’s a process that takes time. in a city that waits for no one, these pieces are quite an accomplishment. nature, time, and sometimes even reaction are things we tend to disregard. “wind” and the rest of todoki’s work addresses all of these issues.

banksy, eat your heart out.

“i cannot do great things, only small things with great love.”

i often think about what great things can i do. what can i create that might move people, inspire someone else or elicit a response.

too often, i fear mediocrity and measure the value of what i aspire to produce before it’s even materialized. i worry that whatever i conceptualize will be short of stellar - just another trite condiment at the artists’ table. and the orb of my presence in this life cycle might be lukewarm or… beige. (oh, how deathly afraid i am of being a wit-less color. an on-the-fence, without conviction or moxie, beige.)

but submitting to these fears doesn’t help anyone. it produces nothing. it’s paralyzing, it’s lazy, and worse than beige - it’s colorless.

and so, i’ve learned:

1. i cannot devalue the idea before i’ve even made the attempt to produce it.
2. by what or whose measure is the work valued and why do i give a shit?
3. most importantly, greatness is found not in the act itself, not in the piece that comes of it, but in the intention and process. the catalyst behind the movement.

how much of myself do i commit to any and all acts? what is it that propels me to do so? this is going to sound hokey as fuck, but it really is the love. the more willingly i lend myself to this love, surrender to it, feed it, the more honest is my intention. falling in love with the materials, manipulating them with tremendous care, and really caring about what i’m doing. that is where i find greatness, the driving force behind ‘do-ing’.

here is my response to this realization. the first piece of what i plan to make into a series of type and materials exploration.

WILL DESIGN FOR FOOD. espíritu not for sale.

it’s easy to become disenchanted with the design process when client/product is always involved. but i guess at some point, for me at least, it’s important to get into the habit of drawing a clear separation between work design and personal design.

if i never want lose that good feeling, that excitement, i must be able to recognize the transfer of intentions.

in work design, the end product takes precedence. whereas in personal design, the process does - and the end result is simply a by-product of what-just-happened (art). 

perhaps this is a method of convenience - applying personal art philosophies on an as-needed basis. but what can i say, with sallie mae on my ass and a cosigner in the mix, survival mode kicks in. .. and i can only afford to lose my paycheck.

anyhow. last night, i returned to personal design (see: *calisthenics: grey matter).

the feeling was absolutely wonderful.