pack a pen

With my naturally tangled hair and disorganized outfits, my sincere thirst for a cup of black coffee, and my recently rewarded degree in English (woot woot!) the question “are you an artist?” often follows. I keep my response as consistent as my coffee; I lift my weight from heels to my toes, softly shrug my shoulders, and smile while my pitch rises at least three octaves, “we’re all artists”. Cue giggle. And boy do I mean it. We are all artists. A natural born talent embedded into each of us is our ability to create; though the degree to which we embrace this gift varies, art encompasses our daily activity. I prefer to counter the persistent argument of ‘what is art?’ and question what isn’t art.

Ironically, anonymous graffiti artist expressed indifference toward arts eternal and constant existence. On an ambiguous block of wood in the 125th Street subway, boldly written in dark purple marker highlighted by a coat of metallic silver “ART IS OVER” stuttered my step. I was immediately inspired. Today, May 14th, 2015 is the birth of my New York City graffiti career. The seemingly purposeless, door-resembling, rectangular wood canvas in the 125th Street station will forevermore (until understandably removed) remind sweat stained commuters, inquisitive children, native New Yorkers, and the newbies like myself that art is NEVER over.

IMG_2691If you zoom, squint, magnify, or just visit the station, you can see where I wrote ‘NEVER’ in black Sharpie. Day 2


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