Grafitti fascinates me.
 

It taps into my interest in media. I love the friction and encounter between words, images, bits of paper, the rough and sometimes broken or ruined materials on which it is inscribed, its interface with architecture.

I love its public nature, the inscription on open surfaces that others walk past, the interpellation we brush by on our way to work, to coffee, to complete some errand or other, the way it reaches us in a multitude of moods.

I love its heterogeneity and palimpsestic nature; the nonsense of things thrown, or piling up, side by side, the chance encounter or unexpected sense that can emerge. I love its excess, that there is something more all of a sudden.

I love how grafitti cultures differ from city to city; I love figuring out the vernacular grammar of why certain forms appear here and not there.

I love its materiality, the exposure to weather and time.