Brother Vegi! I provided you with my contacts as requested, but haven't heard from you. I shall continue to wait. My legal paperwork has been submitted to the Maple Syrup Parole Board and I'm still awaiting approval to travel and dispense high quality artisanal syrups to the great nation of Australia and others
I just got out after a stint in jail, have been laying low for a while, starting to paint again, went through a headache trying to get my account back on these forums and fucking COME BACK TO THIS?! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?
I think it was me and either MSFYT or BEEoner who started the first "Good Morning" thread on BombingScience 1.0. I mentioned earlier I've been away for a bit and I've noticed the forums have changed a little and not necessarily in a bad way, just a little less active. Anyway, I'm not sure where I'm supposed to post this half-baked musing so I'll slap this tag where it was originally intended. I'm a bomber, okay? I like one-liners, I like drippy-tags, fill-ins and hollows. Turns out, I'm kinda good at it. I like stickers, wheat-paste and going all fucking city in 3 days. That don't mean I don't piece. I can't afford it. BS has been more than generous to me, but I'd rather go out and destroy every night of the week than save up for a month on a chef's salary for a piece that might not even last a week. To each their own and that's word. Bombing for me reflects my taste in all art. I like punk-rock and underground hip-hop music. I like grindhouse cinema. I like stickers on phone-booths. I like art that is DIY as fuck, churn it out, down and dirty and done for cheap. But I also like opera. I like films by Jodorowski and Kubrick. I like seeing an original Basquiat at a gallery, I just can't do it all the time. So if a friend invites me to the symphony, fuck yeah I'm gonna go hear that orchestra, but when I go home, I'm still gonna be banging on my $100 Ibanez bass guitar in my basement. I know I'm baked and waxing philosophical but art means a lot to me, and those throwies and mops are art. Soak a dish rag in motor-oil and drop yer name on a cop-car and I'll have respect.