"Blogging isn't journalism, it's graffiti with punctuation."


Fauxreel is fo’real!

Again, apologies all around for posting these photos so late in the game, but as I’ve been saying, I had so many New York and Montreal photos to get through, that these have just been sitting in my photo storage banks for months, itching to be posted!

I’ve photographed Fauxreel‘s stuff before (although, admittedly, I haven’t seen his stuff about Toronto in quite some time). Fauxreel is arguably Toronto’s most famous street artist (everyone in the Brooklyn scene knows who he is, how many people can boast that?), so was glad to hear that during the Luminato festival, he was invited to erect some stuff around the Gerard and Parliament area.

These were taken at night, so forgive the lax-clarity.

Looks like he made the piece out of Condominium Open House and Grand Opening signs.

it’s nice and all, but i think i prefer Fauxreel’s wheatpastes of full-size people…. check out my Fauxreel category for examples of those:)


know when to stop. if not, keep on going

this used to be on the wall of Abode, a club on the corner of richmond and peter. i photograffiti’d it just in time.
another Fauxreel piece:)


advertising? artwork? or illegal?

i’m almost certain this is the work of Fauxreel.

Post-Graffiti exhibit at The Gladstone Hotel

i have found lots of Shepard Fairey’s around Toronto and New York (check out my Shepard Fairey category for each find), but i thought i had found them all in Toronto. i don’t think he’s been here for a few years, so to find some of his OBEY stickers still lingering about is a real treat. i found this practically unblemished OBEY sticker on queen west near dovercourt

speaking of Shepard Fairey…..

i found out recently that The Gladstone Hotel quietly opened a free exhibit on their 3rd and 4th floors called POST-GRAFFITI. it features the work of Shepard Fairey (the Obama HOPE poster!!!!), Dolk, Retna, Anthony Lister, Dan Bergeron (aka FAUXREEL), and yes, Banksy.

they’re having a launch party for it on the 27th in conjunction with another art exhibit, BUT they’ll charge ya $5. if you go any day between 12pm and 5pm, it’s free to the public.

just sayin’.

shepard fairey.

apart from his obvious style, there are lots of visual cues to his previous work here.

more shepard fairey. basically the whole 3rd floor was dedicated to him.


this is Anthony Lister. he has this motif with golden award trophies that he works with often.

this piece by Anthony Lister previously appeared this summer at the Show & Tell Gallery


i was first introduced to his work when i wandered around Brooklyn for two weeks earlier this year.



dolk’s homage to warhol.

i’m pretty sure this if FAUXREEL, as he primarily works with photographs of people. if so, he only had this one piece in the whole exhibit. what a shame. i love his work.

i’m assuming this Indian/Pakistani scene is by Retna

and the one BANKSY at the exhibit

you can tell it’s a BANKSY by the lettering/font of the word “applause.”

hahah uss enterprise.

my next girl will be nothing like my ex girl; i made mistakes back then, i’ll never do it again

nicely done, deadboy

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guess who just sold the above photo, along with many other of my Rob Ford graffiti photos, to The Grid! I love adding “photographer” to my growing portfolio. Check out the spread here, munckins!

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sometimes i share the emails i get here, sometimes not, but this one came with the tacit authority to share, and it’s rather lovely, so why not.


My goodness! I’ve just spent the past three hours reading through your blog and I’m still not finished. Now I see you’re on Twitter, as well. Where do you find the time?

I “stumbled upon” your blog while browsing something totally unrelated (don’t know how Google always manage to do that) and I was so intrigued (yes, it was because of a photo of you) that I decided to peruse through it. Very entertaining, indeed. Informative at times… even inspiring (the bit about eating healthy). There’s so much material to cover that I doubt I will get to it all.
Portuguese and Lebanese, eh? I see it now. Beautiful combination. You kinda got that Nelly Furtado-Kim Kardashian thing going on, eh (Apologies if you can’t stand those two!).

Another thing from your blog which stood out in my mind is the part about how you would fill in the blank to end the sentence on the picture you saw at the hipster house party. I thought your response was brilliant. Deep with a dash of humour. I wonder how many people actually got it? I also made note of the part where you blogged about traveling to NYC because of a love interest but things didn’t go well and you were left crying on the steps of Union Square? I assume figuratively and not literally because, His loss, I assure you!

Anyway, it’s been fun reading. All the best to ya!

fanks mate. for the record, i didn’t travel to NYC last summer for the guy, but i’ve known him for years and he’s always good for givin’r, so he just factored in to the trip. he’s in a relationship right now, so when i went to NYC earlier this year, i didn’t bother contacting him. if i did, the response would be silence. but if i’m being honest, he was probably one of the greatest longstanding affairs i’ve ever had.

technically, that’s not saying much.

and fanks for the “his loss” bit . . . it’s not his loss just yet, but give me some time, and it will be.

Banksy’s latest, in response to the News Of The World phone hacking scandal.

last week, i collaged about “the good bike” project here in toronto, which has been getting so much attention not just around town, over the pond in the UK, the guardian has even taken notice of our Mayoral clusterfuck.

anyway, here’s another find. this is the first blue one i’ve found, it was on bloor near dovercourt. i want to find the green “jane jacobs” one, anyone know where that’s located? i know it’s on Albany, but where?

i still need a name for my new bike (since my old bike Bea Arthur was totaled by a raging syphilis-cyclist, i hope she dies of a rectum rash), but i’m leaning toward calling it Aunty Edna. old lady names for bikes=boom goes the dynamite.

this is the mural at luna cafe on dovercourt and argyle. i always ride Aunty Edna past this lovely converted grocers, and i adore how they have kept some of the grocer’s painted adverts on the window. gives it such a great feel. people who live in and around argyle street are so lucky. i want to live there, the area kiboshes the annex.

text messages from august 10th:

mr k: your mind shines as brightly as your eyes do.

me: how is it you always know just what to say?

mr k: i just kinda adore you so it’s natural… everything about you just feels so organic. you blow my mind.

at  the Ali Baba falafel place on bloor street with nate, a delightfully schizo’d woman heard me say that i was portuguese, so she came over and said that i was a beautiful portu-geezer, and proceeded to kiss my head about 16 or 17 times. i actually don’t think i processed what she was doing. i kind of tuned out, not even realizing it was awkward or weird. i let her kiss my hair, and stared at a point on the street outside the window.

it felt like everything and anything, except like what it was.

this photo was taken last year at the TedxTO afterparty, but i was only recently tagged in it on facebook. i don’t at all remember taking this shot, or frankly, who the dudes in it are. Reg, any clues?

i’m such a glad-hander.

i’ve blogged about fauxreel twice before, but this old piece of his from 2009 that went up in our fair city still gives me pause.

i was at a funeral once.  as is expected, it was a very sombre, melancholy event. it was a hot july day, and the church had left the windows open for ventilation. as family members came forward to give their speeches, a car outside on the street was blasting its crap music (as most low rider douchebags who drag The Danforth are known to do). unfortunately, it was this song. the fucking car was stopped at a really long red-light outside, and because all the church windows were open, the song invaded the ceremony. we were trying to have this respectful, reflexive, and downright sad experience to mourn the loss of life…

…and instead, we were paralyzed with a case of the giggles. everyone had their hands over their mouths, unsure of whether to choke back tears, or choke on our cackles.

horribly hilarious, i was uncontrollably laughing at a funeral.

that’s what going to Moth-Up the other day was like.

someone walked by me, pretending not to see me. But seeing as how i’m an adult, i made the courteous move to say hello. i had forgotten that we weren’t talking … and now i remember why.

in hindsight, i probably should have checked the FB event page to see who would be at Moth Up so i could have avoided it altogether, but i have completely given up stalking on FB. if people didn’t show up in my FB newsfeed, i’d never know what others are up to. i absotively posulutely refuse to look at anybody’s profile but my own. i have extended this ban from FB to twitter, and even some blogs. … mostly, because i couldn’t give a shit.

luckily, i was with someone worthy of my attention. we giggled like conspirators well into the night, actually leaving the event early for more one-on-one.

we bounded out the door, taking the steps two at a time, and disappeared into the velvet black of midnight…  i didn’t bother to take notice of what i left behind.

life is right in any case.

and my heart is open as the sky.

“your mind shines as brightly as your eyes do.”

kings may come and then go, having sex in the snow

the newspaper headlines reporting bin laden’s death.

compare and contrast.

i took this photo on monday morning and posted it online. within 24 hours, it had over 1200 views. i’d classify that as verging on viral.

it’s official. we have replaced ethics for hype.

having a headline like this detracts from the important issues that people actually care about.

this is pure knee-jerk, reactionary editorializing on the front page that is meant to anger people and appeal to their baser instincts instead of allowing them to form their own opinions from the news. this is here just to sell papers, rather than offering facts on the issue. also the word ‘hell’ in there implies religious connotations that not everyone subscribes to. even religious people would have to agree that “rot in hell” is not a very ecumenical statement and is not endorsed by any church. editorials have no place on front page headlines, and this newspaper, by refusing to hold any issue’s feet to the fire, is calling into question the intelligence of its readers. whether or not bin laden deserved what he got isn’t the question.

when we dumb down the issues to something like this, nobody wins.

the appropriate response to hate is NOT more hate.

*   *   *

so for  hockey election night in Canada, i was invited down to CityTV broadcast headquarters to attend #CityVote, an event where, in their own words, “high-profile tweeters” (that’s so going in my bio) gathered to live-tweet the election and the results, without getting arrested by Elections Canada.

that’s me, doing my job credibly in-studio via UberSocial Twitter on Blackberry

and that’s one of my tweets flashing across the broadcast.

it was a great event, attended by some great twitter-buds and tweethearts of mine, and we were all pretty much in agreement that basically:

The Stache is Da Man.

Also Stephen Harper can now resume building his deathstar in peace.

canadians can’t even do this.

fuck this, i want to see Harper’s long-form birth certificate.

i am extremely excited about Jack Layton and the NDPs political coup in decimating the Liberals as the official opposition, and i’m also so happy for Elizabeth May as the first Green Party Member of Parliament, but now that we have a Harper majority, i can say this, without hyperbole, that this will be the last time we see democracy in action again in this country. hope you enjoyed that.

fucking Fat Alberta, good for nothing province, i blame you for this election. we should invade that province, the only thing they have to defend themselves with is plastic knives and forks, and fucking fat cowboys.

interestingly enough, i wrote this article about the politics surrounding the battle for Trinity-Spadina the day before the election for rabble.ca, a political publication that i have loved for years, so to be asked to write this article was really exciting for me.

read and enjoy!

*   *   *

the contact photography festival is going on right now (alongside hot docs! agh! so much festival-jaculations, so little kleenex to go around), and phil and i found this amazing outdoor exhibit at front and spadina. this is like legal, permitted street art. but that doesn’t negate its potency or the raw, wild, untamed nature of the work. it’s ephemeral, and it’s free.

my two favourite things.

look at his eyes.

they follow you!

*  *  *

my office is located around queen and spadina, and i had heard that the last remaining banksy graffiti from his unannounced visit here last year was sitting right across the street from my daily-grindin’-desk. so after work last week, i went for a stroll to see what i could find.

this building is soon-to-be a hotel. how did i find that out?

as i stood on the lawn, overlooking banksy’s rat, the owner popped out and called out to me, “do you want to see what it looked like before it was defaced?”

“sure,” i said.

he walked over with a framed photograph of the banksy rat and said that the photo was taken the day it went up, and that the very next day, someone had defaced it with the word “love!” and other  nonsense.

it looks like he’s tried to restore it somewhat, but a lot of the strokes have been buried under someone else’s spray.

the owner then told me that he was offered $150,000 by some guy to cut out the bricks sporting the banksy rat, so he could add it to his collection, and the guy would replace the bricks and make it all nice again.

the owner told the guy “no, because this now belongs to the people of  toronto, not me.”

a man after my own heart.

the owner then let me in ON A BANKSY SECRET!

he said Banksy’s best mate from adolescence (from bristol? really?) lives just down the street from the hotel, that’s why Banksy was here last year, to visit him.

banksy apparently has plans to return this summer, and will make some art at the launch of the new hotel which will open in june.

i asked “when exactly will that be?”

“i don’t know,” he replied.

“if you did know, would you tell me?”

long pause.


here’s the framed photo of what it looked like before it was defaced.

i gave the hotel owner my business card, and said he should contact me, you know, on the fly, if he wanted to give me a head’s up about, oh you know, whatever may happen this summer that i may or may not be interested in.

wink wink.

*  *  *

remember in my last post, i mentioned that some street art i found was done by fauxreel? i emailed him and said,

just a quick message to say that i’m a big fan of your work. i found one of your pieces recently on adelaide street near simcoe and blogged about it, and then realized that you’re also behind the two wheatpaste pieces of the open-mouthed kids on leslie just north of sheppard. i see those two pieces every day on my commute to work (i unfortunately live up there, lol!) and i love them so much because that area NEVER gets any thoughtful street art like that, and i think they’re brilliant.
congrats on all your success sir! uda man.

Fauxreel replied! his real name is dan bergeron, and he said,

hi christine,

thanks for your note…
i’m glad you enjoy my work…
the pieces on leslie were part of a project i worked on with Artstarts for the Villawayz housing community…
it was great to put work up in a part of the city that rarely ever sees public art installations…
and the piece on adelaide was just something fun, part of a series called men at work, in which i install images of blue collar workers interacting with the urban landscape…

i officially have a new art-star to worship.

*   *   *

another reason why being a member of the press rules.

my media badge got me into the one and only, sold-out, capacity screening of Beats, Rhymes & Life: A Tribe Called Quest documentary at Hot Docs. watch the trailer, and get excited.

most of all someone said true love was dead and i’m bound to fall, bound to fall, for you

adventures in photoshop. i think i’m gonna get the hang of this. oh  ya, banner up top of this blog has been changed with some brilliance on my part. i’m becoming a total bitch.

last weekend i’m walking down queen west, i look up, and lo-and-behold it’s yet another pole sporting gregory alan elliot‘s turn of phrases and actual name attached to this street art.

i decided to take this as a cosmic sign from the universe. a while back, mr elliot tweeted me his phone number when he saw the cornucopia of his street art pictured on this blog, so after toeing this line (see what i did there+) of his in the sidewalk, i gave him a shout and we met up at Crafted by Te Aro on ossington.

and he was  . . . well . . . he was unlike anyone i’ve ever met before, and that’s not a lie.

without saying how i felt about him, i’ll just tell you what he said:

“i’m NDP in practice, but i always vote conservative.”

make your own judgements.

i concur

since then, it’s been a strange but amazing week. after leaving mr elliot in the ossington area to give away plants that were meant for me to hands of other homes, i looked up at the back of the street lights and poles along queen west (something i trained my eye to do after two weeks in NYC and Brooklyn, never wanting to miss a single piece of street art), and what do i find?

it’s old and it’s ripped, but it’s clearly my boy.

oh ya, that’s a sheppard fairey andre the giant “obey” sticker. proof that he’s been here, and deems our city worthy.

like the first time i ever saw this sticker in real life on houston street in manhattan, i got all giddy and starting jumping up and down.

just ignore me.

i don’t know who put up this really clever stencil on adelaide street near simcoe, but i drove by it first, turned the car around, wheels and hubcaps screeching like surgical tools along the pavement, pulled up in front, and took a bajillion shots.

EDIT!! just found out this is by fauxreel!

i love how the wheatpasted image incorporates the pipes facading the building. so clever. and looks like an old street art friend to the right was taken away. boo-urns.

phil and i found this outside st george station.

there is nothing greater than citizens commenting on the city in which they live through art.

oh and rob-ford-bashing, ya gotta give the drugs-of-joy.

early this week i went to the morning press screening of director morgan spurlock’s latest doc POM The Greatest Movie Ever Sold, which premiered here as part of the Hot Docs film fest, which i am covering as media. i wrote a health-framed film review of the film, which you can read here, and then, the holiest of holies happened -> i got to interview DA MAN morgan spurlock himself on the red carpet of the premiere which you can read here! the pres rep only gave me 5 minutes (which was then diminished to 4 mins) with mr spurlock, but he was totally gracious and generous with his responses, and gave many great soundbites.

i’ve been a freelance writer for all of my adult life, and i’ve interviewed a shitload of celebrities and notable personalities, but it never really gets old. the moment you become blazé about how cool the job is, you should leave it. i love being media. i really do.

and now i fancy mr spurlock. just sayin’

 watch me in this video by shawn preece hall interviewing morgan spurlock at the 3:10 mark!

some fuzzy blackberry-shots i took of mr spurlock on the red carpet as he inched his way toward me. here he’s being interviewed by CityTV.

now he’s being interviewed by CBC.

and NOW it’s the naked news, oddly, with clothes.

there’s shawn preece hall in the leather jacket. totally cool dude. he recognized me in the media line from twitter. i love it when that happens (which is rare. i have this complex where i believe no one actually knows my name or what i look like, so when people recognize me and actually know my name, it makes me a gonzo-blush)

anyway, watch the trailer for POM The Greatest Movie Ever Sold here:

i went to the Windsor Arms Hotel for high tea, in celebration of the Windsors tying the knot (see what i did there? anybody? Bueller?)

i wrote about it for The Gloss.

here’s some photos that didn’t make the final cut of the article

i won this book.

i’m not really bothering to read it. i mean, i got up early to watch them get married, but i’m over it now. fuck, even THEY are over it now, look.

drinks served.

hats given.

tea and crumpets.

see those two little pots of jam sitting next to the butter dish in the centre?

ya, those went straight into my purse.

i’m like a sloppy scavenger. i spent so many years broke, eating nothing but scraps and morsels, and that mentality never leaves you.

you can take the poor grifter outta the girl, but you can’t take the girl outta the poor grifter.

when you’re not looking, i’m eating the leftovers on your plate.

all the lovely ladies wore sunday dresses and strappy pumps. i showed up in my work clothes and Chuck Taylors.

above i said i’m turning into a bitch. replace “bitch” with “fuckface.”

something new has popped up this week out of seeming nothingness. for once, i don’t particularly want to say anything about it.

i had a dream in the middle of the week that a hand was reach under the covers of my bed to choke me. when i woke up, i was still suffocating, wrestling with the hand which was independent of any body. this dark, strong, floating hand was trying to kill me while i lay bare.

death by duvet.

the night before i dreamed i was being told by the new girlfriend of an old boyfriend to leave the metropolis, he would never love me that way again.

no one ever loves the same way twice.

back off, duchess of cambridge, wills is MINE.

(Photos: Becca Lemire)