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Her name is Hope. All I have is this image to prove I wasn't dreaming. It's not every day a heavenly creature appears before you.
Outtakes from Graffiti Underworld book...
Ether:
I’d say it was 2003 or 2004, it was post 911. Me and this dude Shock and Ski-rock were in Chicago. Ski-rock’s from Paris and Shock is from Minneapolis, but he lived in Chicago for a short period of time. We were planning on doing this end-to-end with pieces, all matching colors and shit. I met up with Ski-rock and Shock couldn’t make it because of some family stuff. So we’re just chillin’. Our whole concept was to do these burners and eventually it turned into like, “well, this dude’s not comin’ so we should just do wholecars.” But, one, we don’t have a car to get to the spot and, two, we don’t have any ladders to do the wholecars. So we walked from Ski-rock’s crib, two miles to this Home Depot that was open 24/7 and we bought a fucking ladder because we only had enough for one ladder. I don’t know what we were thinking. Then we take the train towards O’Hare International Airport, they have a yard out there. It’s a pretty well known yard.
You have to run across the highway to get into the fucking yard. So we take the train to the stop closest to the yard and we’re walking through this waste land area with a commercial building here and there. There’s no reason to be walking there whatsoever and we’re walking with this ladder. People are looking at us and shit. We get there and the spot wasn’t looking too good but we’re kinda like, “fuck it.” So we go into the spot and we’re trying to find a pocket where we can get flicks of our shit and there weren’t any pockets laid up. We just took the train out there so we were more committed to this spot. If we had a car we probably would have said, “fuck it, we’ll do it another time,” but since we took the train all the way out and we got this ladder and shit and all this paint, we’re like, “fuck it.” So we go into the spot and go to this aisle where we normally paint. We weren’t really thinking too much, so we start doing our fucking wholecars.
"questa è dedicata a tutti quei simpaticoni che mi han fatto ricordare il giorno del compleanno :) grassie amicicici"
I don't know what's happening and I'm not sure how to feel about it, but something about it makes my throat hurt. I feel as though I'm suffocating.
so, i decided to play around with smoke art today. i have to say, this was lots of fun. it's nice to not know what you are going to get sometimes, and then look for the beauty in the swirling forms. i don't think these are too bad for a first attempt, and i will definitely play with this again in the future.
sb600 snooted 10 o'clock
We used small speedlites to m ake the jump sharp. Two from top on octo 120 cm. one on each side with stripboxes.
model: Tereza Hlouskova
Even though this got dissed, this ETHER is still fresh!
This image is better viewed: LARGE
Benched in Southern California
I promised that more photocollages and edits of citrasolved national geographic pages would be forthcoming, and here is one now. I am especially happy with how it allowed me to incorporate a hazed and submerged version of a photograph of a dark sky lily that I took. I didn't consider any of the photos from that photoshoot good enough to stand on their own, but it was a shame not to be able to share the image I was attempting to capture, which was really quite special. Now it can have a new sort of life here, adding to the textures of the citrasolved paper. The flower is seen as if through gauze - a mental gauze pulled over one's mind. Combined with the dark, grungy, shadows that seem to be in the foreground rather than the background one gets the impression of a dark mental state. The flower made me thiink of Esthers, which made me think of Ether, and the concept of grappling with Ether addiction seemed to match the overall mood of the image, the distortions, the reaching shadows, the living a life of continual defeat, yet a flower growing still anyhow, if only you look close enough.
Ether is an orphan from New Orleans, Louisianna. She was found abandoned, as a little girl, with one leg wedged between two logs. The growth plate in her leg was broken so that it stood frozen in time and was eventually outgrown by her other leg. As she grew, her little leg was fitted with a special boot so she would be able to walk, with the tiniest limp. Ever after, more lovingly known as Boots.