I've been going through some shit lately and no matter what, when I drive past, it cheers me up, makes my eyes water up a little, and calms me down. In the middle of traffic it takes me from stressing about one thing or another to stop and think. Reminding me that through every struggle and circumstance, you grow. At times when you're soo low, even though subconsciously you know it, it's hard to see there's a potential light at the end of this dingy dark tunnel.
In the middle of the smut, the filth, and sin on the streets of Los Angeles, some person probably took a couple cans of paint, and an hour or two, to create this beautiful imperfect, mural of words, uknowingly affecting myself and most likely many many other. And I thank them, for reminding me that Life is indeed very beautiful. Life is art. Without all of the imperfections, you wouldn't be appreciate the beauty.
I encourage more powerful and enlightening words to be spread through the many corrupt streets, wish it upon any city, any town, any building. This is what I call art. Art to me, isn't a picture, or a painting, it is something that has been created by a pair of hands, and provides the capability to make others feel it. To me art is a feeling. which can be felt through craft.
Unfortunately, I am always on the opposite side of the street and haven't been at a good angle to capture a photo. I thank computer god's for google, because I was able to find a photo of it, and now am able to share it with you all.
Now, it has been painted all red, and has a paintings of Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, and Barrack Obama staring you down, reminding you that history is still in the making, as you cruise down La Brea Ave.
