Monthly Archives: April 2014

Dada-ism and how it may relate to Graffiti & Street Art

First watch “Dada A Brief History” on YouTube

Dada A Brief History:

   As I was walking down the hall to the art gallery I could smell a large amount of paint and plenty of chatter. Of course this snatched up my curiosity. The gallery is usually quiet and a scene for young pessimistic narcissistic art students. I go there for balance in my life.

   Art has become apart of my religion. In the sense it brings me closer to God. I write my Catholic prayers in Latin that I made up while fishing under a bridge. I dispel the chaos and confusion bothering my soul. The galleries, graffiti walls, & train yards have become my evangelical churches. I hear the word of man and I write down what’s in my heart. My paintings are my prayers. I actually pray while I paint. I do it for God, the human race, and for my penitence. For all the wrongs I’ve done and the ones that have been done to me.
   I see a couple huddled on the wall scribing with a fat marker. In amazement I gawk. Then, this older man walks up to me and asks if I’d like to join in. I couldn’t resist! My Krink markers come out a blazing. The older guy introduces himself as the art professor. He says, “you look like you’ve done this before.”

   He invites me to paint some graffiti on the train box car outside the gallery. I say, “sure!” I dash home to get my spray paint and come back. Driving 1hr 23 minutes in traffic to my house and back. When I returned it was a mad house of people tagging up the walls. I go outside and I paint this bird. It wasn’t much. Very disappointed. After a few rude phone calls from family and an ex girlfriend I lost my vibe. The art professor chimed in on his disappointment or lack in enthusiasm in my skills. Same shit.

  The next day I came back refreshed in my holy church of art. I had my playlist ready on my cell with headphones plugged in very tight. People were still painting everywhere. I waited and started to contemplate my theme. I say I want to use the works of others as my fill-in and just outline the shapes. The crowd dispersed and I was alone with God. I prayed for the children in the Ukraine. I had once helped them in my time at the Catholic Seminary.


   This is what I did. I received some positive feedback. So, I felt better than the day before. Even though I didn’t use any of the 4 crates of spray paint I lugged with me. It was okay. I was okay. I was at peace. I titled this one “Ukraine: Where is she?”
     I get up the next day and rushed to school with a feeling of accomplishment. I guess my pride and self esteem needed that kick in the balls to humble myself. God knows how to put others at the task of my discipline. I walk into the gallery and just bursted out laughing when I see this.


See Movie Machete Michelle Rodriguez

I was asked how upset I was. I told them this is 101 graffiti lesson. Up today buffed tomorrow. Or even ridiculed with contempt. Which is okay. I’m okay with it. I enjoy the reflection of others on my prayers. Not one person was hurt by this. Nonviolent and rational discussion took place. Someone did what I had done. I took their works and made it mine. We shared a space with our hearts that culminated in art.

  I waited from 9:30am till 1pm for others to come back and paint the walls. No such crowd showed up. Just a dance student. I gave her a marker and she drew roses around the woman I painted. That was very cool.
    And then I began my painting. I wanted an angel with big wings to go across the entire wall space. I wanted a beautiful Latina with contour flowing hair. Nope, that didn’t happen. I was told I could spray paint inside just a little. Then, stopped after I had started. Creating a big problem. I can’t see tones too well and the only way I know how to come close is by aerosol paint. Since that was no longer an option I had to redo the face. The hair looked bad. I was embarrassed. My ego wasn’t hurt, because this was for God. What I was worried about was what people would think without the message I was bringing. If they don’t feel the art then they don’t get the message.  They won’t hear the words of my Lord. I will fail the mission.  I restart with another face. This turned out worse. The lights went out and black paint spilled on my piece. Suddenly, a student walks by and loudly asks, “IS THIS SUPPOSE TO BE ART? CAN YOU REALLY CALL IT THAT?!” My reply, “art is an expression of feeling. Your displeasure from this body of works makes this art.” I’m just the artist and I came here to release.

    That’s when I painted her. Someone I became fond of only after she moved away. I miss her. She is from the old Yugoslavia. The area which was war torn by Catholics and Muslims. I painted her. I had already given my angel wings. Now, I gave her a face. My friend Samira, my blue angel, who has a passionate heart.


I didn't know that the heart on the bottom was there till after I was done.



If you made it this far Thank You. This message was for you.
“Ad te Domine levavi animam meam. Per spinas ad et astra. Pro vobis et pro multis.”
“To you oh Lord. Through thorns and to the stars. For you and for many.”


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Posted by on April 4, 2014 in Philosophy


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