Many have wandered here… not all have returned. Some are swallowed, mysteriously, while they inadvertently amble, leaving only school bags or shoes… Beware the Forests of Zeenat!
These young whippersnappers got away to safety. But staring into the vortex… Taunting the force? Not a safe thing to do…
Shortly after I took this picture, this man disappeared.
Pope St – amongst Dryden, Burns, Dickens, Campbell and others – is strictly Salt River, and therefore out of Mr Blobz’ ambit. However, this is part of his ‘hood. Where the old corner cafes survive, and the community is vas. Chock-full of street art and on the big dusty main streets, crap galleries, flailing in the wind.
Sam and I sometimes ride here, and he tells me about different types of graffiti (mess vs art), and gets irritated if we’re on a downhill and I have to stop to take a pic. But for the most part he’s just happy to be on his bike.
There are the usual scrawls. Look into the eyeball…
Loverzzzz. Luvaz. Lovers. Frenz.
Tiekie for Bogy. And here, a list of them…
Rollcall of a posse, who’s who and who’s here, top of the list, in favour. And as times change and people fall out and move away, get hairy and marry or stray, love still tops the list.
Yes well… at Mr Blobz’s recent house party, two friendly artists went head to head on who could draw the rudest pic. Your vote: Con or Frank?
Sometimes street art is to be found in the most unexpected places…
This place on Cnr. Milton/Lower Main (with sorry septic tenants, except for The Model-T Liquors) hosts this unrulily (you read it here Blobzters) fine ass:emblem:age> of suburban angstation: a chromatose dream.
fluxstration and smashed rent-a-rent, Oh Beautiful Observatory, all that she’s cracked up to be!
I’m inspired by places like this. Perhaps there should be a kind of medal affixed to the place, a beautyspot of some sort.
Below is a little detail. You have to appreciate the craft involved here.
Viewing is in Arnold Road, if you ever think of touring the area.
The ugliest door in Obz. Polo Road. My road,
unfortunately. Quite something. Rwaaaaawwr!
This little gem above a new garden designed to prevent some endemic dumping. I wonder if it isn’t futile. This corner has somehow attracted a lot of shit over the years. One day there were about 300 shoes, all of the left vatriety. Maybe I’m just in a bad mood today…
This pic is altogether better for my mood. Doesn’t look too different from me…
And finally, something else from the streets of Obs. This last piece has a question mark attached by a passerby. Exactly my sentiment. Wtf?
All is not well in Lower Wrensch Road. At the back of the Old Dairy, a woman peeps out of her window…
The place has been vandalised for years. There is barely anything left except the paint, bricks and plaster.
Just up from Hartleyvale Stadium, if you feel like saying hi.
I’m sure she’d like that.
The first of many posts on street paintcraft – I hope – because I am irresistably drawn to this stuff, especially the handpainted illustrations, brushmarks on the plaster etc.
Street painted art of the commercial brushy kind is so fucking personal, it breaks your heart. Personal choices, small mistakes on a public wall. Galloping perspective. Someone’s uncle or nephew who can paint, it’s all a family business.
Fuck that’s a mooi sofa!!!