Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Day 20- Graffiti dear.




Right before school began last fall I adorned Rob's chorus room with this mural.  I was high as a kite when I was done.  Note to self:  don't do graffiti indoors.  Lesson learned.
Rob Burlington, graffiti model.

The school year passed.  But, during our visit to the ATL this past weekend we drove through this visual feast, the Krog street tunnel.  Oh dear.  It inspires me.  Being back in the city was invigorating. The urban vibe, the art, the free spirits.  I love that city.
       


My inspiration led me to get the contact information of two ATL artists from my godson, the amazing studly photographer, Dustin Chambers.  Yesterday I spent the morning watching graffiti tutorials on YouTube.  Love the music in this one:



And then life happened.  I took my kids to choir rehearsal in Uptown last night.  I got a pizza at 7th Street market.  I drove back to get the kids.  And I drove right past this:


I rubbed my eyes in disbelief.  And then the nose-following impulse stirred within me.  I parked the car and walked back.  Upon my return I found a break-dancing/graffiti party behind the Blumenthal in full swing. Complete with deejay.  So that happened.


It turns out, folks were welcome to try some graffiti of their own.  Cue nose following music now.


Yes, I jumped in, white shirt and yellow pants be damned.   In fact, both clothing items show no evidence of my interaction with spray paint.

Someone who knew what they were doing.

Another person with a clue.

I had to.

this too.

Ignore smug mug.  This shot shows how clean my shirt remained.  A graffiti miracle.

Jams.



Oh yeah- go get the kids!  But you know I brought them back to see the jam.
It took Esther 0.00009 seconds to jump in and fix my painting.

Pre-Esther.
Post-Esther.

I see improvement.  But to really get better at this graffiti thing, I need a little guidance.  That's why I got the name of one of the artists there last night.  Don't change that dial- I plan on getting a graffiti lesson next week.


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