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Hand screenprint on archival paper. On auction at tonight and tomorrow's benefit art show for Daniel McGowan "an environmental and social justice activist, unjustly arrested and charged in federal court on multiple counts of arson, property destruction, and conspiracy, relating to two incidents that occurred in Oregon in 2001. Daniel has asserted his innocence by pleading not guilty to all charges. He is facing a minimum of life in prison if convicted." More info here: www.visualresistance.org/mcgowan/
(July 27, 2006, at ABC no Rio, New York City)
Swoon completely revamped the wall that someone(s) had recently defaced. It was so excellent to walk by this morning and see this...Details best-viewed in original size: www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=192962666&size=o
Also, for recent history/photos of this wall:
www.flickr.com/photos/kittenclaw/187345340/
and
www.flickr.com/photos/kittenclaw/190077690/in/photostream/
(Lower East Side, NYC, 7/18/06)
'In sum, we are an army of dreamers, and therefore invincible. How can we fail to win, with this imagination overturning everything. Or rather, we do not deserve to lose."
-- Subcomandante Marcos
More on the murder this weekend of my former neighbor, Brad Will:
the man who shot Brad and his fellow death squad thugs
(Photo above is of a stranger in an EZLN shirt - not Brad - during a protest during the Republican National Convention in NYC, September 1, 2004.)
Last week, the wankers at New York Mag asked why there was no political street art. It looks like they didn't find any because it appears that the only place they looked for it was in the vicinity of the Candy Factory (which these days, is little more than a raging mess). Well NY Maggers, see above. And here. Here. And here. Here. Here. Here. And, oh yeah, here.
ghost bike in memory of:
"brandie bailey 21 years old, killed by truck. may 8, 2005. rest in peace."
installation by visual.resistance who commented in their own photostream:
"the installation is meant as a reminder of the tragedy that took place... and a quiet statement in support of bikers’ right to safe travel. it was inspired by ghost bike pittsburgh, which was in turn inspired by a similar effort in st. louis. we’d like to never have to do this again."
sadly, they've installed 3 in the past months.
please visit the visual resistance blog to read more about the "ghost bike" projects in nyc and other places.
This truck pulled up, opened the back and japanther started playing. after playing for about a half hour they said goodbye, pulled the back down and drove away.
you can see me and the crowd from the truck top here: www.flickr.com/photos/visualresistance/24556974
Video of it here: www.vimeo.com/clip=2681
also, i am finally selling prints. prices here: jenene.org/printpricing.html
updated
from visual.resistance:
"Swoon's latest pieces, in Brooklyn.
These are portraits of womyn who live in the Mixteca region of the state of Oaxaca, in southern Mexico. Where they live there is little water or natural resources. What airable land does exist is owned by wealthy elites who cultivate crops to be sold in urban centers. Because of the environmental and economic situation, this region has suffered from the affects of mass migration to find work. These womyns' only source of income is money sent from their family members working in maquilas in northern Mexico or working in the United States. That money alone doesn't cut it. To help make ends meet they hand-sew soccer balls for local soccer ball manufacturer. It takes about a day to sew one ball and they make a little less than a dollar for each one. The fastest sewers can make up to twelve a week, making their weekly income no more than 12 dollars. It's extremely time consuming and exploitative work. The womyn get the materials from a guy who then goes on to sell the soccer balls for three times what he paid for them. If the womyn mess up or loose any of the materials they have to pay the full price of a completed soccer ball.
The womyn in the portraits are a part of an organization called CACTUS that works to confront poverty and isolation through popular education, solidarity economy projects and community banking. What little money they make stays in the community. This name group is working great cooperatively run alternatives to the soccer ball production.
The community they are a part of is in the region where there is a popular movement to remove Governor Ruiz, for his management of recent teacher strikes, the police brutality he's ordered, and corruption. The situation in Oaxaca is worsening and the Federal govenrnment has sent in thier police, to restore order. They are doing exactly the opposite. It isn't reported on the news, here in the USA, but there is an incredibly violent repression against this movement of self-governance which calls itself APPO-(Asamblea Popular del Pueblo de Oaxaca) The Popular Assembly of the People of Oaxaca.
If you want to read updates about whats going on in the South of Mexico check out for some english news."
There's tons of Spanish news, start here:
From Eliot at Visual Resistance:
This city can kill you. This society can blunt you with indifference. When we create ghost bikes, or go on memorial rides, we tap into the hurt of this world and choose to honor that stranger we know could be our friend, our sister, ourself. We choose to remember, even if we never knew. That empathy is a holy rebellion. That choice makes us whole.
Haunting writing from Eliot about his friend Eric Ng:
I wish to God I didn’t have to write this: On Friday, December 1, Eric Ng was riding his bike up the West Side bike path. He was on his way from a show to a party — that was Eric, always busy, always seeing people — when a fucking drunk driver ran him down. The driver had traveled at speed for over a mile on the bike path, ignoring dozens of exits, literally dozens of chances to return to the road. Dozens of choices. The car hit Eric with such force that his bike was crushed, he was thrown into the air, his tire and shoe landing fifty feet away. The horrific details are in the news, if you want them.
Eric. What can I even say? If you knew him, you know. I met Eric at NYU, four years ago. He was three years younger than me. Straight outta Jersey, a beautiful punk rock kid with a constant smile on a direct line from a big heart. A staccato laugh like a snare drum in a string section. A teddy bear with muscles. I remember his guitar, taped together & with a few screws missing, the one time we played music together: “Dude. I think we should play it faster.”
And now a phone call and a shock. Not Eric. I feel old too soon; Eric was 22 perfectly. A body full of honest energy and a face like contagious hope.
—–
I’ve been making ghost bikes for strangers for a year and a half. Eric’s is not the first that made me cry, but it’s the first that made me hurt. A big group of Eric’s friends spent the weekend mourning, talking, and, finally, making. We made a ghost bike for him on Saturday and sunflowers on Sunday. Eric’s memorial plaque reads “Love & Rage” — no resting in peace for this rock star.
Eric’s loss is a collective one; the sheer number of people who cared deeply for him is amazing. The depth of their pain is a mirror of the joy he brought to this world. That joy remains, pushed under but still there. If you ever had it, hold it.
From Eliot at Visual Resistance:
This city can kill you. This society can blunt you with indifference. When we create ghost bikes, or go on memorial rides, we tap into the hurt of this world and choose to honor that stranger we know could be our friend, our sister, ourself. We choose to remember, even if we never knew. That empathy is a holy rebellion. That choice makes us whole.
Haunting writing from Eliot about his friend Eric Ng:
I wish to God I didn’t have to write this: On Friday, December 1, Eric Ng was riding his bike up the West Side bike path. He was on his way from a show to a party — that was Eric, always busy, always seeing people — when a fucking drunk driver ran him down. The driver had traveled at speed for over a mile on the bike path, ignoring dozens of exits, literally dozens of chances to return to the road. Dozens of choices. The car hit Eric with such force that his bike was crushed, he was thrown into the air, his tire and shoe landing fifty feet away. The horrific details are in the news, if you want them.
Eric. What can I even say? If you knew him, you know. I met Eric at NYU, four years ago. He was three years younger than me. Straight outta Jersey, a beautiful punk rock kid with a constant smile on a direct line from a big heart. A staccato laugh like a snare drum in a string section. A teddy bear with muscles. I remember his guitar, taped together & with a few screws missing, the one time we played music together: “Dude. I think we should play it faster.”
And now a phone call and a shock. Not Eric. I feel old too soon; Eric was 22 perfectly. A body full of honest energy and a face like contagious hope.
—–
I’ve been making ghost bikes for strangers for a year and a half. Eric’s is not the first that made me cry, but it’s the first that made me hurt. A big group of Eric’s friends spent the weekend mourning, talking, and, finally, making. We made a ghost bike for him on Saturday and sunflowers on Sunday. Eric’s memorial plaque reads “Love & Rage” — no resting in peace for this rock star.
Eric’s loss is a collective one; the sheer number of people who cared deeply for him is amazing. The depth of their pain is a mirror of the joy he brought to this world. That joy remains, pushed under but still there. If you ever had it, hold it.
From Eliot at Visual Resistance:
This city can kill you. This society can blunt you with indifference. When we create ghost bikes, or go on memorial rides, we tap into the hurt of this world and choose to honor that stranger we know could be our friend, our sister, ourself. We choose to remember, even if we never knew. That empathy is a holy rebellion. That choice makes us whole.
Haunting writing from Eliot about his friend Eric Ng:
I wish to God I didn’t have to write this: On Friday, December 1, Eric Ng was riding his bike up the West Side bike path. He was on his way from a show to a party — that was Eric, always busy, always seeing people — when a fucking drunk driver ran him down. The driver had traveled at speed for over a mile on the bike path, ignoring dozens of exits, literally dozens of chances to return to the road. Dozens of choices. The car hit Eric with such force that his bike was crushed, he was thrown into the air, his tire and shoe landing fifty feet away. The horrific details are in the news, if you want them.
Eric. What can I even say? If you knew him, you know. I met Eric at NYU, four years ago. He was three years younger than me. Straight outta Jersey, a beautiful punk rock kid with a constant smile on a direct line from a big heart. A staccato laugh like a snare drum in a string section. A teddy bear with muscles. I remember his guitar, taped together & with a few screws missing, the one time we played music together: “Dude. I think we should play it faster.”
And now a phone call and a shock. Not Eric. I feel old too soon; Eric was 22 perfectly. A body full of honest energy and a face like contagious hope.
—–
I’ve been making ghost bikes for strangers for a year and a half. Eric’s is not the first that made me cry, but it’s the first that made me hurt. A big group of Eric’s friends spent the weekend mourning, talking, and, finally, making. We made a ghost bike for him on Saturday and sunflowers on Sunday. Eric’s memorial plaque reads “Love & Rage” — no resting in peace for this rock star.
Eric’s loss is a collective one; the sheer number of people who cared deeply for him is amazing. The depth of their pain is a mirror of the joy he brought to this world. That joy remains, pushed under but still there. If you ever had it, hold it.
This shirt was designed for anyone doing crafts! It's available in my etsy shop www.visualresistance.etsy.com
hundreds of peeps crammed inside the gallery, and hundreds more hangin outside.
japanther showed up in a truck later on to perform a few trucks. see visial.resistance's flick
i *fucking heart* ny.
During the May Day (Vappu) 2025 demonstrations in Helsinki, this striking hand-painted banner was one of the most powerful visual messages. It reads “Lopetetaan leikkaukset, yhteistetään kaikki”, demanding an end to austerity policies and calling for collective ownership of public resources. The visual metaphor scissors versus solidarity reflects the ongoing political struggle in Finland against privatization, social spending cuts, and the erosion of workers’ rights.
Seen at the central market square, this moment captures the creative spirit and radical energy of grassroots movements standing up for equity and justice in Finnish society.
Vapun 2025 mielenosoituksissa Helsingissä tämä käsinmaalattu banderolli erottui visuaalisuudellaan ja vahvalla viestillään: “Lopetetaan leikkaukset, yhteistetään kaikki”. Se on suora vastalause hallituksen leikkauspolitiikkaa ja yksityistämistä vastaan vaatien resurssien kollektiivista hallintaa ja oikeudenmukaisempaa yhteiskuntaa.
with her unicycle print at Lee Hardware Apartments where Minicine hosted The 7th Annual Gadabout Traveling Film Festival. Kristine is a member of Justseeds Visual Resistance Artists' Cooperative.
This shirt was designed for anyone doing crafts! It's available in my etsy shop www.visualresistance.etsy.com