Excerpt
FIRST THINGS FIRST . . .
The following book is not about me. At least not completely. Contrary to what you may think from viewing hundreds of posters with my name and image on them, my work isnt just an exercise in vanity. More accurately, its about the people who encounter it. Its about the relationship that they have to the messages theyve stumbled upon basic, yet intimate, messages aimed at a city full of people and the dreams theyve deferred, the loves theyve lost, and the jobs they hate.
This book is also not really about the fashionably rebellious nature of street art. While the work of a traditional artist may be perfectly at home in a gallery, my work is significantly less effective without the context of the landscape it exists within and the populous of strangers that interact with it. My intention was never to come across as a hip outlaw or an urban folk hero. I just wanted to contribute a few positive words to the staticy white noise that jockies
for our attention on a minute-by-minute basis. Frustration, inadequacy, disappointment, condemnation, and impotent rage are the products of the sound that rings in our ears, echoes in our hearts, and screams in our heads. Their sources can be traced back to any number of personal experiences and need only a moment of silence to convince us of the soul-crushing solitude and failure thats surely predestined for us. Dont worry; I hear it, too. I wanted the messages in my posters to provide a slight glimmer of hope, motivation, humor, and relief for anyone they apply to. One of my methods to achieve this was through confessing my own fears, flaws, and idiosyncrasies to anyone who might be able to relate. For that reason alone, it seemed imperative to sign my work. To shield myself from judgment behind a protective anonymity seemed counter to the purpose of putting my posters out there in the first place. I believe that speaking with any kind of intimacy into peoples lives is a privilege earned only through honesty and vulnerability. I wanted my words to be the words of a friend, comrade, and kindred spirit. I was not trying to manufacture a viral campaign to build fame and fortune as an artist; I was just trying to make some people smile. Thats why this book isnt really about me. Its about you. Its quality is dependent almost completely on how much the messages mean to you. Maybe youre a wealthy, attractive, confident person whos never failed or known rejection. If so, congratulations. Also, Im sorry that my book is kinda boring and doesnt even have any workout tips.
Admittedly, my talents are limited. Ive never claimed to be the best at any aspect of what I do. There are wittier wordsmiths and better illustrators in the world. Too many to count, actually. This isnt to feign humility; its to explain that no, I dont think Im Banksy. I dont think Im anyone but myself, imperfections and all. I started doing what I do to communicate with the world around me, and I never considered whether or not I was qualified. Now here I am, with enough pieces to fill a book and only one apology for not doing a better job. I hope you find it satisfactory. Thank you for giving my work a chance. Thank you to everyone who has ever passed something I did on the street and glanced at it long enough to ingest the words and their meaning. Some are meant to be profound, some just silly, but all of them were meant as a gift. I hope at least a few of them fit you right, because I lost the receipt.
Enjoy