The 2006 set of Street Paint sees just three pictures again. I know, my coverage is skewed. Let us never speak of it again. Maybe.

The first image is a take on Andy Warhol’s Brillo boxes. Succinctly replaced with the truth. A bit heavy-handed but well overdue.

Plus the piece is nicely serigraphed on wood. Bolted to a wall covered in decay. It’s a lovely piece perfectly placed.

Growing up I adored Andy Warhol. But like most things you love, that feeling changes over time. With Warhol specifically that has run the gamut from love to hate and then settled on respect.

I just wish he had lived through Britney, Bieber and Swift. Lived through the reality television horror. Lived to see his prophecies become monstrous institutions. Could Warhol rule a social media reality?

What would he have done with the Marilyn treatment of Anna Nicole? The death watch meltdowns of Lindsay Lohan or Amanda Bynes? As you get older it becomes harder to live with repeating history.

In the end I give him props for being light years ahead of the curve. His influence on my work is obvious. Just as obvious as his influence on graffiti artists.

The Hype picture is followed by two pieces of old style graffiti. One beautiful and expected. The last one, a terrifying display of color combinations. The color combination is so aggressive I had to post it.

Two shades of baby shit brown meet red, green and blue. The red, green and blue sickened by their association with the brown. It’s a lovely mess.

Every time I write one of these posts, I have to discuss the imagery or tell a story. Even for me this a huge task. I think I am about to run out of stories or commentary.