I challenged my father to stay in the present for one car trip over the Westgate last Thursday, so he started talking about refugees and then he cried. I let him retreat back to the safety of reminiscing.
I am guilty of hiding out in the good old days myself, as are most paint spotters. A stroll down Melburn's memory laneways is something many of us do (All Those Shapes, Dean Sunshine, Arty Graffarti, Melbourne Street Art). Everything we document has already been done and has therefore begun it's journey to decay, demise, or demolition. That's a lot of D's.
The best thing and the worst thing about street art is it's transience. The constant change gives us the chance to capture the ancient, the old, and the new in one image. But it also reminds us of what once was and isn't any more. Some of us tackle this loss bravely and others rally against it.
|Sydney Contemporary Art Museum - installation filming the viewer, who becomes the subject|
Nostalgia comforts us in changing times, when what we see is not what it used to be. But we shouldn't resist moving on. In fact, we cannot reminisce unless we keep moving forward. Changing the present gives us a past.
So why is there always a resistance to change? Why are we so scared when Google sets out to homogenize us? Why do we show off only to recoil when the Herald Sun notices ? Why do we get shitty about tags ?
|Leaving for greener pastures|
There is a fear of being taken over, subsumed by the machine that extends beyond the walls growing, decaying and growing again around us. I would like to propose that we fear change (and the people representing it) because it might make us irrelevant. It is a fitting idea to contemplate during refugee week, don't you think?
|Way back when|