The Corn Poppy, Southsea
I went to a street art festival a few weeks ago and took hundreds of pictures. This will keep the blog going for ages I thought. But looking through the pictures I questioned why I should post them. These weren't untutored bursts of expression from idiot savants; these were professional illustrators and art students painting out of doors. There was some good art but not so much graffiti. The big pieces, the marquee pieces, were striking, impressive but . . . something was missing. It was all a bit mainstream.
Even the surrealism that affects much modern graffiti is ordinary. The experimental is now conventional, the experimental is now conventional. In a world where Donald Trump is a contender for the world's highest public office you have to take surrealism (and satire) to a whole new level. The conventional is now experimental.
The mainstream and I parted company decades ago. It was a mutual agreement. I didn't want to do mainstream and mainstream wanted nothing to do with me. I didn't want Uncle Walt being the arbiter of my cultural experiences, I didn't want a life soundtracked by the Top 20 (any more), I didn't want my time orderd by tv listings, I didn't want my choices to be made for me by Sunday supplements. So I sailed off my own sweet way.
I could say more but it'll only cause a scrap.