on graffitos' patroness

For all of their differences in style of clothing, method of address, performance under fire, gait while walking, and ability to tolerate bullshit, street artists share one thing in common: a life-long love for the dandelion (and for kicking off their white, fluffy, puff-ball-like heads). As an individual who spends his time altering the appearance of things that everyone else seems to be ignoring, the graffiti-writer will – should the opportunity present itself – run wildly into a field of dandelions just to decapitate as many of them as he can, as quickly as possible. The dandelion requires just this sort of action to deliver her seeds to the Shifting Winds of Fortune; she gains of the graffito's destructive tendencies; thus, she is his goddess, his flower-patroness.

Beyond the symbiotic interdependency of dandelion with graffito, the two also share other traits, albeit ones perhaps less obvious to the casual observer. Both are loathed by the population in general, the flower for its tendency to grow nearly anywhere regardless of efforts to keep it out, the artist for his tendency to access most any imaginable surface – regardless of perimeter fencing, guard, closed-circuit television camera, or watchdog. Both are loved by a small but growing group that keeps its opinions to itself and enjoys beauty wherever beauty should arise. Dandelions grow in neglected, contaminated, and otherwise ignored places (gutters, trash heaps, empty lots) where little else can gain foothold; street art is applied to neglected, contaminated, and otherwise ignored places (alleyways, abandoned buildings, concrete highway embankments) where few people venture. Cities hire squads of individuals, outfit them with brushes and paint-buckets, and send them out to paint over great patches of well-executed works of art, thus providing the graffito with fresh canvas upon which to erect new works and encouraging him to pursue his Happiness upon surfaces always harder and as a rule more dangerous to reach. Cities treat the dandelion similarly: it is sprayed with poison, assaulted with shovels, dug under the soil, weeded, treated, and burned, all to little avail - a cheerful and resilient little blossom, it will re-appear during the next growing season in larger numbers and with deeper and more tenacious roots.

It is as hard to catch a vandal in the act of applying his craft as it is to catch a dandelion in the act of colonizing new terrain. Both street art and dandelions improve the human condition freely and without ado, bringing beauty to the world without seeking thanks or a by-your-leave. Street art covers and enlivens surfaces that just a day before had been blank concrete walls, and dandelions appear just as suddenly, shining yellow faces enlivening lawns that just a day before had been mono-cultured swaths of grass devoid of Nature's abundance. We, the Self Directed Urban Beautification Specialists (SDUBS) of America, ask the inhabitants of Terra to search for beauty in all places, to pursue Happiness with us by blanketing the urban and the natural environments with bright and vibrant colors, to rejoice in the sudden appearance of beauty in places forgotten and forlorn, and to remember to honor our common goddess, the dandelion, by kicking as many of her puff-balls as we possible can. Stay on your toes out there, dear friend, and may you be filled always with divine breath.

場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit

on street art's blooming goddess

For all of their differences in style, method, appearance, gait, and habit, street artists share one thing in common: A life-long love for dandelions (or, more specifically, for kicking off their white, fluffy, puff-ball-like heads). As individuals who spend their time defacing and destroying things that everyone else seems to be ignoring, graffiti-writers will – should the opportunity present itself – run wildly into a field of dandelions solely to decapitate as many of them as they can in as short an amount of time as possible. The dandelion requires just this sort of action to spread her seeds upon the Shifting Winds of Fortune, and because she gains benefit of the graffito's destructive tendencies, she is his goddess, his flower-patroness.

Beyond the symbiotic interdependency of dandelion with street artist, the two also share other traits, albeit ones perhaps less obvious to the casual observer. Both are loathed by the population in general, the flower for its tendency to grow nearly anywhere regardless of efforts to keep it out, the art for its tendency to appear on most any imaginable surface regardless of perimeter fencing, guards, closed-circuit television cameras, or watchdogs. Both are loved by a shrinking, silent minority that keeps its opinions to itself in an effort to enjoy beauty wherever beauty should arise. Dandelions grow in neglected, contaminated, and otherwise ignored places (gutters, trash heaps, empty lots) where little else can gain foothold; street art appears in neglected, contaminated, and otherwise ignored places (alleyways, abandoned buildings, concrete highway embankments) where few persons would normally venture. Cities hire squads of individuals, outfitting them with brushes and buckets and sending them out to paint over great patches of well-executed works of art, thus providing the graffito with fresh canvas upon which to erect his new works, and encouraging him to pursue his Happiness in places hard or dangerous to reach; similarly, the dandelion – which is sprayed with poison, dug out of the soil, dug into the soil, weeded, treated, and burned, all to little avail – itself being a cheerful little blossom, is more than likely to re-appear during the next growing season in greater numbers than before and with deeper and more tenacious roots. It is just as hard to catch a vandal in the act of applying his craft as it is to catch a dandelion in the act of colonizing new terrain, whereas street art and dandelions improve the human condition freely and without ado, laying beauty at mankind's feet without seeking thanks or asking so much as a by-your-leave. And, perhaps finally, street art appears as if by magic, covering and enlivening large surfaces that just the day before had been blank, imposing concrete walls; and dandelions appear if by magic, their shining yellow faces covering and enlivening lawns that just the day before had been mono-cultured, sterile swaths of grass denuded of any traces of natural abundance.

We, the SDUBS* of America, would like to remind the inhabitants of this land to search for beauty in places it is rarely thought to inhabit, to pioneer ways to improve the urban and the natural environments (especially by blanketing each with bright and vibrant colors), to rejoice in the sudden – almost magical – appearance of beauty in places forgotten and forlorn, and to remember to honor Goddess Dandelion by kicking as many of her puffy balls as you possible can. Stay on your toes out there, dear friends, and may you be filled, always, with divine breath.

場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit

(* self-directed urban beautification specialists)