Fatspatrol

Truck plate à la Fatspatrol
Think this is my favorite one yet.

FYI : these plates I paint are decommissioned and trashed from garbage heaps and road sides. Not pulled off vehicles .
This one found somewhere between Ras Al Khaimah and Umm Al Quwain
Dm if interested 🛻

No

“Buried under beautiful things are the words that no one sings”

Something I scribbled on a piece of paper during Covid lockdowns was the crux of a talk I did earlier this year at .

It was about intention really. I went through the history of journey with art/ street art; how I started out painting intuitively, mark-making for little to no money gigs but with some amount of freedom. Over time I became a commercial artist running my own little agency and getting artists paid trying my best to preserve creative integrity. But something did change. I embarked on a journey a 7 year journey of painting giant bird murals (you may remember). And yes birds are beautiful and important symbols and I did get some stuff off my chest through them but I realized I was also presenting thoughts and feelings in a super palatable, safe and people-pleasing way. One day I asked myself “are you losing your voice?”

And so the 8600 square m mural on Yas Island became my last major bird mural and I embarked on The Humans, a more honest and existential journey. Art, after all, isn’t supposed to be palatable and easy. Yes art in public space requires a level of community engagement and consideration (because public space is not free) but it’s also important to retain your voice, tell a story, say something.
And so the work you see now which is quite different from the bird era. As street art became a heavily curated and commercialized thing I threw myself into studio work work where I could be raw and emotional and, heaven forbid, dark. I started talking more about the importance of the human voice, especially in a time of AI. Of human truth and stories in a time of dehumanization and inhumanity. I do paint fewer murals now, it’s true. But I never intended to be a one-note, one- medium artist. I intend to be an evolving, intentional human with a voice and a story. Not just the artist who paints birds.

It’s a tricky pivot to stay connected to your voice and instincts and pay your bills, it’s true. But I believe in art as more than commodity. I actually wrote my Masters thesis on this almost 20 years ago so I guess I’m coming full circle.
The end

I’m not too sure what the snakes are about. Not particularly a serpent enthusiast but self preservation instincts in me have always been high and sometimes they represent the bad guys and other times the weapon.
The poem in wrote in the background reads:

Check it out, she’s wearing a dress
Just when we thought she always looks a mess
Looks like she’s tucked her snakes into her hair
And she’s even wearing fancy underwear!
“I don’t want to be jaded” she said
“Just because things don’t always go to plan.
I’d rather be the one naive and dancing
Because hey I’ve still got snakes here at hand”

I have spent a lot of time hiding, guarded, closed off from the society around me . Tough experiences = fear. The last year has been pretty different though . I’ve become more social, friendly, open, soft and even more sentimental and sappy. Hiding from the world expecting everything to fall apart and hurt to protect myself hasn’t been super healthy. . Going out into the world having faith and conviction in myself has. I had a visit from my grandmother in a meditation recently. She gave me none of the answers I asked for :) But she said “trust yourself”.
Anyway I know it looks Greek. And like Medusa. Not deliberate . But I did take mythology at university. And I did have a conversation about Greek mythology this week. So you know. Brain stuff.

Few recent pages from the little book

I don’t know about you but I have a hard time focusing on what people are saying in groups, much less looking interested when I can’t. Having my little sketchbook really helps me tune in strangely. And still be in my own world . Straddling the boundaries always

Ah where would we be without humour?
And self-deprication 🙄😂🙄

This week’s self portrait.

Fire on wood