The oddly poetic death of an iconic bear blood splatters a concrete red carpet leading into one of MOCA's most successful exhibitions ever, 'Art In The Streets.'
Last Friday, Evan and I decided to spend an afternoon to go and see what all the fuss is about.
(Ok, I guess, technically, Evan already knew what the fuss was about, as he'd already paid a visit to the spectacular urban locale with his brother, who for the purpose of this post will be known as P-dawg. But I was entirely untouched and ready to be seduced by cheeksters and enfants terribles.)
Color Me Dead
Sure it is.
Oh, you were being ironic? Banksy, you little rascal, you.
A photographic capture of a shadow of myself taking a picture of myself taking a picture of my shadow taking a picture of...
hmmm.
Meta1 x meta2 = reality3 ?
A slice of constructed street reality. It was magnificent.
Evan enjoys his own meta-representative endeavours at times, and thought he could sneak up on me and ninjaly take a picture of me taking a picture of a picture...
But of course, one cannot sneak up on a Viking ninja, without her knowing it!
Instead I managed to take a photo of him at the exact same moment he was taking a photo of me!
Touché!
...
hmm...
A pattern seems to be developing.
Any accusations of narcissism and staged social personas and hyper-desire to document everything at all times, will be blamed on society ("she wrote, and kept typing away at her blog post). But yeah, society must be blamed, just for good measure. I, for one, refuse to take any responsibility. It's not what our generation does, I've heard.
See! It's confusing with all this artificial reality all over! Is this street art of an imitation of street art? Is this reality or a representation thereof? Does three-dimensionality make art more real or does it highlight the fakery? When it looks like, feels like, smells like and sounds like something, when is it then not something?
Ceci n'est pas une pipe!
Or?
CCTV lays eggs and monitors an ecclesiastical graffiti space...
...while a pondering Evan blends into the art.
Banksy Brilliance.
Me observing Evan observing.
Entering the shadow mosaic lounge was like entering one of the childhood forts I used to build out of blankets and sheets and whatever else I could find.
Note to self: Build more forts. Forts are awesome.
Note to self: Build more forts. Forts are awesome.
Danish Colored Brick Wall and Convex Security Guard, No. 1.
I don't really. But I understand.
Movement.
My favorite art piece.
Swagger.
Disney Concert Hall.
It can speak for itself.
Outside the concert hall, there was a little tree. This very tree, in fact. At first glance, it looks pretty normal. Standard, even. However, inspecting it little closer, we found that it has...eyes?
Look!
An eye!
Another eye was looking at/over the concert hall. As if nature had decided to sprout its own surveillance equipment. Can human paranoia rub off on nature, I wonder?
The Third Eye.
a very good day
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