Diego Rivera Died for our sins.

Seeing that the Date Farmers – artists Carlos Ramirez and Armando Lerma are in town for what looks to be an amazing show at Pictures on Walls I thought I would drop down this morning and offer them a proper welcome to London. This show Fiesta Resistance is going to rule . Opens tomorrow (Dec 4), go check it out.

I did this piece at 9am on a busy London High Street. The reality is that early in the morning no one can be bothered. Coffee is the only thing on most peoples minds. The masses flow by, heads down thinking of the horror they face at their job, daydreaming about going to a record store (wait, do those still exist?) and spending the day browsing and listening to some clerks better taste in music.

The grey days of the London labyrinth surround me. It rains and rains, the winter a wet but not always cold leaden weight that hangs in the sky. What is happening, where are we going?

I sat on the bus as I returned to the Wick, smelling the paint fumes coming from the stencils in my bag. Listening to the bleep and blurbs from other peoples headphones. At 9 am the traffic isn’t too bad, you drift on the deck of the bus, a ghost returning to more familiar haunts.

Why do people get up so damn early? These people should be coming home, not heading out. When do we start living our lives? When do the masses wake up from the drudgery of morning rain, smelly busses, coffee prayers and wet toes?

The moments that shock us from our lives are when we see the world around us has been changed by someone without power. That a person has altered our path, changed the shape of our reality, like a ghost. I watch as the graf evolves, station to station the buildings a screen for an arabesque pattern, an illuminated manuscript imposed on the architecture of the urban landscape. It tells the story of night (and sometimes day) ghosts and the dreams that people live while most of us are asleep.

Its painted in the flat (on the ground) in from of POW. 46 Commercial Street, E1 London


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