Tuesday, July 14, 2009

So who the fuck you think is livin' to this day?

Inspired by the stock, 1956 2-into-1 configuration, Mr. Barragan and myself have come up with some sick ass shotgun pipes for the project. This is an early photo when they were just tacked in mockup stage, now the upper pipe is shorter and the lower runs to the rear shock.
I am more than pleased

These just came in the mail and are gonna take it to the next level. 

Dash Snow. Such a talent, such a waste. 
I used to see him around town all the time, and we'd do that "do I know you" stare down.
He used to kick it with mutual friends, and for years I wondered "who was the skinny dude with the beard and fedora?"- but since that could describe just about anybody on Cahuenga or Echo Park Blvd on any given night, I kept the question to myself.
Finally one night while checking out his work online I came upon a picture of him and it all came together, the face, the name, the work.
At first his work bummed me out big time, the kind of irritation that when peeled away reveals the type of envy one feels when someone comes up with the great idea before you.
The semen art particularly pissed me off. Not cause I thought it was a cop out, gimmick, or trying to out-Terry, Terry, but more so that deep down I was like, this kid is epic.

Once I let go of the beard envy and got over my own shit, I dug the whole trip - the tagging and Irak, the Saddam obsession, the polaroids, the "nests", the New York Post pieces, and the shades of My Own Private Idaho that more than permeated his art brat/street urchin persona.

No matter what you think or say, invariably the work of a man speaks for itself, and he was the real deal. Whether you think he was a genius or a poser doesn't matter, cause the work will be judged for what it is, though it will be hard if not impossible to separate it from the myth now that he's gone.

When I was young I feared I'd join the 27 club.
I'm really glad I wasn't that stupid and stuck around for the good parts.


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