Transcription No. 1 (alley 49.281825 – 123.101540)

 

I am particularly concerned with notions of translation and transcription. Graffiti, post-its, tags, love notes, are forms (of communication/insistence/art) that will never leave us—how do we read the world as it is found/left around us? A strange nexus of the personal and the impersonal, delicate and steadfast simultaneously. On the surface, meaning shouts out of the written word—but also hums underneath a current of impossible, of an inability to communicate our true selves.

Is the billboard a better reflection of our desires, or the bathroom stall? Or both? Are they different?

How do our notes/tags/missives fit into the civic space? Transgression is built in. Or built out. The climbing into of the personal is the inhabiting of the universal

 trasncription-no-2

the answer is dope simple
778 **2 1**5 “Jack”
Bionic Chronic
jan. evening
DOG
NBV
jizz in her eyes this xmas season
arnica
RIB
a4 french
s.sucks limp dicky
N
B
say no
cum 4 christ
What’s up s.?
I’d like to get to know who you are.
“Shippy”
No drones spec
GOD
Young Frenchy
east van crooks
r.is a living breathing deth master
death troopers are here
Love?!
SBC
ian
j the jib hoe
oh my nipple tips
tryna fuck around?
curlie
los diablos
jizz $tain
post one
778 *11 2**1
!move her
lazy
2000px-heart_empty_font_awesome-svg thy hater