or The sour thrill of living through an inflationary bubble
Made from dirt, concrete, epoxy resin, beeswax, clay, acrylic, oil, aerosol, damar, uv archival spray on stretched canvas.
"Cities always move in waves. From ancient centers of development in motion rippling out, proliferation rises and falls in an endless tide, order and oblivion locked in a dance of changing tastes and disaster, frenzied growth and imminent crisis. Whel I look at graffiti on the walls of buildings, I think of the buildings themselves as graffiti on the bedrock that bears them. Meaning is written into and over the rock. Architecture is a language of speaking that moves slower than speech but faster than rocks. There is animal meaning, human meaning, ocean meaning. Each needs substances to tell its story, to enact the agency the laws of nature in this universe have accorded it. I wander around, getting on and off the train, looking at buildings and entering some. Walking down streets and carrying home some of their dirt; staring into the water and smelling her salt"
-From "Vancouverism, in Rotting Colours, Volume I"
24" x 24"
Available - $2000