Sunday, March 24, 2013

Marching Disorder

This month has been a year of it.  My feet are blistered in their blunnies and there are callouses the size of dollar coins on my palms as I trudge on through it.  Okay, so that is a fantasy, I think we all know by now I am white collar.  Still the image fits and I am claiming it.
It has been the month that was and it isn't even over.  The wind has demolished country towns. In politics, marching orders were fired as fast as bullets and with equal force. In street art, exceedingly good exhibitions unfolded north, south and centre.  Lia Tabrah rocked a Deb Spoons Croc Off like no-one else could and I defy you not to love her. She is a Goddess and you need to get her art ON YOU!
 
Will Coles wiped the floor with it and so did Slicer. International visitors graced us, and I don't just mean Ellen. Futura was here- I mean fuck!  And of course our ever gregarious Deano entertained him.
 
At a street level the lanes pulsated and so did the resurging can work (commissioned and not so commissioned respectively). In movement of the underground variety, another anniversary has been marked and YAY for the chicks! And  a sore ass for one poor fella but he was appropriately rewarded.  If that is too cryptic for you, then you were not there.  But I was and will be forever humbled by my very generously provided visitors pass. THANK YOU - you know who you are.
I continue to watch in awe as Naz fights his battles with the grace of someone with more strength than 10 of us put together.  That man is an absolute champion.  Marky Wearne remains in hospital and I dedicate this post to Mark, Lou, Simon and Annie.  I feel ashamed that my suburb failed Shaun Wright but proud of the Council dude who didn't let him die alone.  And BTW if you are one of those fuckers with more testosterone than balls and you are reading this, CHANGE YOUR WAYS.  Step back, THINK! The worse thing that can happen is you become a better person.
And by the way, I kinda came out this month.  No more clandestine appearances (well, some). You will see more of my face from here on in. Flasher has arrived. March on I say.



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