i would call these Spud Bombs, but these are more like Spud-grenades.
i love how each face on each grenade has a different symbol in the eyeball. there’s a gleam, there’s baseball bats, and there’s (i think) pacman!
last time i took a midnight spin down this alley, these spud bombs weren’t here. i’m assuming that since Spud was arrested, he’s probably been released pending his hearing, and getting back to work. OCCUPY STREET WALLS, MY FRIEND!
The last time i blogged about Spud, the internet shat itself in my comments section.
i ain’t afraid of no posts.
handsome & gorgeous
i had previously found one of these “handsome & gorgeous” stencils in kensington market back in august
It is 5:01am.
I got out of bed at 3:30am, could not sleep, ate too late.
The other day I was drifting up the main to the Mile End and then back to the Plateau ( cuz I’m dat cool ) and I spotted Stikki Peaches work all over. Even as far as on Chabanel in the garment factory hood.
I think Stikki Peaches might be going all city soon.
So, today I woke up and I could not sleep so I decided to look for Stikki Peaches ( as I type this I hear something crawling in the ceiling, I think it might be a giant rat ) on the webz and I found your online memory data silo.
I lived in Toronto for a while and also Vancouver but most of my life I lived in MTL. I’m originally from central america, Guatemala.
Where am I going with this? Oh yea.
So, when I lived in Toronto and Vancouver I loved to see who was going up on what wall, who was throwing a tag here and there. Back then SPUD, JAFAR and a few others had gone all city but my favorite became TRIK.
TRIK here TRIK there TRIK en haut TRIK en bas TRIK to the left TRIK to the right TRIK on the rails TRIK in the toilets TRIK.
You get the idea.
Ok, so the proliferation of locations for a writer is not uncommon in the game, but here is why he became my favorite.
I had to go back to Guatemala due to a death in the family.
I had not been there in 20 years and there was a cultural shock.
I felt out of place, in the home land, wow. I missed poutine, I missed the Wheat Sheaf’ giant moose and I missed the west coast rain. (sheesh, this is starting to sound like the vinyl cafe. Ok I like the vinyl cafe)
One night as I walked up and down the little cobble stone covered streets of Antigua, something caught my eye as I passed a street light post.
There it was, written in a fine tip blue sharpie, TRIK.
I smiled, je me suis dit ” tout est en ordre et la vie continue”
It is now 5:35am.
Thank you for your time and thank you for your blog Christine.“
-Methuselah (not his real name)
Il n’y a pas de quoi, mon chum.
fanks for the past-midnight-musings. glad you appreciate! next time i return to montreal, we can wander with a sharpie.
Dove-tailing off of the powerful Occupy Wall Street protests happening around the world, I have been thinking that the war on graffiti and street artists is just as unconscionable. It needs to end. I do not want to live in a city where artists are incarcerated for practising their art, where they are given criminal records (which is crippling in a post/911 world), and where they are thrown into overcrowded prisons along with real vandals.
With Toronto Mayor Rob Ford deciding that he hated all forms of public art, coupled with much of our beautiful murals disappearing overnight, and with the recent arrest of graffiti legend Spud, I hereby announce my official The Spadina Monologues campaign.
I encourage every Toronto street artist, graffitist, or culture jammer to launch an attack on the streets. And everyone is invited.
OCCUPY STREET WALLS.
This city is ours as much as it is theirs. Time to take it back what was stolen.
i think my favourite turn of phrase is on the bottom right corner with the “fuck the po-lice.”
speaking of the po-lice who have unjustly arrested toronto street artist Spud (i blogged about it here), in connection with this shockingly upsetting news, The Toronto Star interviewed me yesterday morning about Spud.
they wanted to know what his style and influence on toronto has been, why he is a legend in the toronto graffiti scene, why i have chosen to continually profile his work, and a little about why i choose to document graffiti and street art on this blog.
it should go online and in print in The Toronto Star in the next few days, imma let you know.
the last time this blog got major graffiti props was also from The Toronto Star last month, in a profile of local street artist/ingenue Deadboy:
click the above image to read that article.
i won’t stop profiling Spud’s work, but from now on i won’t be posting the locations of these finds. i don’t want to give the police any fuel.
“Graffiti isn’t the problem. It’s society not knowing what to do with its artists. Oh look, there’s a rose. LET’S PAVE OVER IT.” -Ron English
Fanks to local street artist Deadboy for sending me the tip!
SPUD, one of the toronto’s first graffiti/street artists, who has tagged some of the best walls in the city, and has created some of the most provocative anti-Rob-Ford street art, was arrested Monday night, according to The National Post, and CP24.
Apparently, SPUD is the work of three guys, but I suspect the oldest of the crew is the original man.
According to the newspapers, police are urging people to come forward with locations to other Spud bombs so they can build their case.
DO NOT GIVE THE COPS ANYTHING. Do not be an accomplice in the incarceration of artists.
Rob Ford’s anti-graffiti taskforce is censorship at its best; trying to attack what he doesn’t understand.
that was the name of the first short story i ever had professionally published. I blogged about it when it happened way back in 2005… that paycheque paid rent that month. i took the above photo in october of last year during my war child challenge campaign, and this was an outtake that was never published, so i thought i’d have fun with it. the blending of two creative projects.
even though i miss house-sitting, i won’t miss that building being the only one in sight for miles in every direction.
found in the alleys behind the drake hotel. i thought Spud already was the mayor.
the background of Ford’s stupid monkey face says “Spud 4 Mayor” over and over.
I love Spud’s work, he’s one of the greatest Toronto street artists who eludes everyone. Gregory Allan Elliot told me that some of the dudes in Kensington market know who he is and can put me in contact. His work is everywhere and has been around for years. His Ford-sperms and Ford-faces made it into my The Grid article that was published a few weeks ago. And he always seems to score the greatest walls and locations. The rooftops of Queen and Spadina have all been Spud bombed. One says “SpudR” not sure what the R is for, but hey, we know it’s him because of his style and imagery.
here are some old Spud photos that i’ve taken but have never published. this one above was found in the Ossington-Humbert alleyway (I spend most of my days in alleys, seriously). He took over an entire garage front, and even copyrighted it in the bottom right corner.
this is just a spudbomb sticker, but i love it.
when i grow up, i’m going to bovine university.
this is a moo point.
you know, it’s like a cow’s opinion. it doesn’t matter. it’s moo.
i published a photo of this exact same piece a few months ago, but it was someone else’s photo. thought i’d go back and take my own, for copyright/ownership purposes.
i have another photograph of a piece that was put up in graffiti alley, it’s the exact same rob ford face, but instead of “piss here” it just says “ass.”
hhaha! this is in the alley behind dovercourt and queen. the “work in progress” has always been there, but like the new writing to the left indicates, it has been a work in progress for EONS. C’mon son. GET IT TOGETHER.
do you see what i see?
so fucking cool. this was on abell street behind the wreckage of construction.
i love the unused/abandoned storefronts along queen west.
speaking of Gregory Allan Elliot….see what he did here? He took a black marker to the movie poster for Colombiana… so fucking clever, sir. Yes, I know it’s him because the gun is now shooting his “heart/love” symbol.
the night, with garin, outside the drake hotel, where the woman with the typewriter sat on the sidewalk and tapped poems for passers-by. it sounded like morse-code.
headlines the day after Canada went into a state of mourning…
i was walking along Bloor and this guy was just sitting there holding this while fondling his smartphone.
fanks for letting me take your picture, guy.
it’s the fat-lip twins!
my wifey is so nom-nom-nom.
as i spoke about before, Ford Canada is lending me a car for this Labour Day long weekend (Ford Canada recognizes exceptional awesomeness, clearly) , so I’m going on a roadtrip! I’m going back to the place of my birth, Montreal, to hang with my gay boyfriend, my old school mates, to practice mon français (maudit enfant chienne), and wander about to see what’s cool around the plateau since i left at the age of 12.
frankly, after all that i’ve been going through lately, this opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time.
hopefully i’ll find some amazing Montreal graffiti, and see some great Montreal theatre!
if you have any graffiti/theatre leads, please send them my way. or if you’re throwing a hipster douchebag party event clusterfuck that kyboshes other attempts, let a sistah know.
bloggin will resume next week.
à la prochaine, mes ti-choufleurs!
TIFF is coming up, and I’ve been invited to so many advanced press screenings that I’m debating whether or not I should throw myself face-first into the fest like I did last year. Last year was amazing, I reviewed the festival for FOUR different media outlets, including the CBC. I met some amazing people in the industry, attended some hoity-toity parties, saw a record-breaking 35 films (including The King’s Speech, where I knew from the press screening that it would win the Oscar), and feasted on the visual stimuli flashing through a darkened cinema. Static flicking off the beams of light.
So why the debate?
Mama’s got a book to write.
* * *
sneak with me as i disappear into the back alleys. keep your feet pedaling, the bike leaves no footprint. the night will swallow us like a python, opening its mouth, and then holding its breath.
all the kids in the ghetto call me Don chris estima.
gauzed in red, the colour tearing through my flesh, this painted city belongs to me.
we discover art.
and you will know i was once here
by the looks thrown over my shoulder.
Rob introduced me to Poser, who does these smooth rabbits all over town. Now you won’t be able to walk around without noticing them. I love how the rabbits are holding spraypaint cans whilst almost saying “Eyyyyhhhh, sup gurrrrrl.”
that single BlogTO tweet sent my blog traffic batshit crazy through the roof, kiboshing all previous records. fanks hombres!
hello new munchkin readers! enjoy my neurotic blogjaculation.
relax, i’m hilarious.
now shut up and show me your tweets.
rob takes a decent graffiti snap.
rob and i snuck around the back alleys for about four hours, well past midnight. darkness creeping in on secrets.
first obvious target: graffiti alley, then up the ossington alleys, then through kensington market. i think our next destination should be the rail path which runs through the junction. i know there’s some amazing shit there, my camera is gagging for it.
does anybody else think this looks like a concentration camp?
zejko? that sounds yugoslavian . . . maybe serbian or croatian or bosnian. i wonder who this guy is.
political figure? martyr? writer? philosopher? just some dude?
andy warhol just rolled his eyes.
ha, i love this little gas-can fucker.
oh hello mr elliott. we meet again.
i’m surprised to still see some of the Andrew posters around, they’re quite old (in terms of street art shelf life), so this was a rare find. however, considering the way Andrew died, tagging the poster with a mouthful of blood and a speech bubble with “liberal lies” is rather upsetting.
what kind of tagger writes “liberal lies” anyway? i’m sorry, is Andrew’s tragic story offensive to your conservative graffiti ethos? fuck off with that shit.
my last post detailed some Tokyo tags, and now we know who he is. Rob found him on facebook, so we have a face with a (fake)name now. Sup guy.
i also recently blogged about the posters and stickers that have gone up around queen and spadina, commemorating the kettling and brutality that occurred last year during the G20 summit. the stickers say “our civil rights were lost here.” the posters show sombre photos of the attrocities done against peaceful toronto civilians.
the “tokyo” is almost gone. i wish rob ford was rubbing away too.
this headless frowner reminds me of our unhappy hipster run-in while rob and i took a break at 416 Snack Bar. some loud hipsters with massive, square, black-framed specs, and nostrils brimming with white coke, shouted at me from across the table to smile.
i turned into them and gave a fatal grimmace.
coked-up hipster goes, “that’s the worst smile i’ve ever seen. why won’t you smile for me?”
to which i leaned in and coo’d, “I’m not going to be your monkey.”
and at that, his balls crawled back up inside his body.
from what i can gather here, someone stenciled “supreme” then someone with a spray can tagged it into “supremely stupid” but they spelled “stupid” wrong…. studpid? stucpid?
this freaked the shit out of me, because in the darkness of the alley, you couldn’t see all those details. you could see a bit of the face. my flash revealed the bleeding ghost.
some daytime shots from the back alleys in parkdale.
is that elvis presley or chris cornell?
when horses are this lame, they shoot ’em.
hi c-saw, i will respond to that question with this.
good call, speaking of bikes …
i’ve got more THE GOOD BIKE finds!
a basket filled with a potted plant, untouched!
AND it’s bolted to the ground. you ain’t stealing this, fuckfaces.
the photo of me at the top of this post is of me taking this photo….
wow, that’s so meta.
and the moral is: the easiest way to make guys lose their shit is to have yours together