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From day one, the human soul is confounded in its search
for freedom, love, expression and dignity. This is
partly due to the incumbent traps built into mind and society,
and partly due to the inherent inertia in societies, institutions
and individuals that prevent and discourage pushing the envelope
of our individual or communal perceptions.
 Color
and creativity are the birthright of man. The grey
walls we erect in the spirit of division and privacy are mere betrayals
to the human spirit and manifestations of the "disconnectedness"
of sentient beings. The gridwork of "civilized man" is
only a trap, constructed by the unenlightened mind to maintain
order, control and imprisonment of the human spirit. Grey
walls, square cells, asphalt and freeways, tracks and tankers,
skyscrapers and diesel engines - these are all outward manifestations
of mankind's troubled and faulty dominion over "external nature"
- as in Mother Earth, and "internal nature" - as in Father
Soul.
When color escapes from between the cracks of Mankind's troubled
façade, our rigid and armored "controller" panics. From
an early age, the child's crayons are removed, his face is slapped
for nothing other than pure self-expression. The child in
us all is then institutionalized and forced to become just another
square peg in a square hole. Although many of us succumb
and crawl whimpering to the slaughterhouse, there are also many
who protest and many who walk their own path. You don't need
to live on the street, you don't need to spray-paint walls, you
don't need to succumb to addictions, you don't need to run from
reality. You just need to speak with you own true voice.
Mankind is a spectrum. Different faces, voices, choices. Each
is right, not one is wrong. The only "wrong" is enforcing your
"right" on anyone beyond the tip of your own nose. Grey
walls are a disease, as are angry words defacing grey walls. Somewhere
in-between, the wise man seeks balance. If man hides behind
grey walls, he loses his wisdom. If man defaces in anger,
he loses his wisdom. Between the grey walls and the angry
tagger, there lies a rainbow. Elusive, temporal, delicate. Much
like the rainbows you see after a storm.
This Rainbow will come one day. But it won't come
from walls and it won't come from paint. It'll come from
the crumbling of Inner Walls, and Painting of Inner Rainbows
on the Canvas of
the Heart. That's the only way it'll come. All the
other soldiers will remain soldiers, and their battles will never
be
won.
Until that time, Art will remain a Crime. There
is no "right position" and no "wrong position" on it. There
is only "your position" and "my position".
Our position is this:
a painted wall is far more inspiring than a grey wall. Feelings
expressed are far more alive and vital than feelings suppressed. Howling
at the moon is far more delightful than standing in the corner
politely with your hands folded.
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