A small worn sticker found stuck to a railing on the west side. It’s almost invisible with the silver metallic base on the metal railing. The blend kind of echoes the all lowercase sans serif lettering and rounded corners. It is unimposing in its presentation and quietly powerful in its message.

Midtown, Manhattan.

Here’s a piece I’ve been trying to capture for a while, but it’s been obscured. They finally moved all the construction materials and it was revealed in the spring sun. Striking colors with the gradient and dots adding detail and personality. Plus the highlights adding shine make it a top notch piece of work.

Midtown, Manhattan.

Found this beautiful old paste up from Dylan Egon that strikes so many chords with me. Which chords? It’s black and white with simple, clean lines. It’s full of small symbolic details that many will not understand. It’s political and cultural. It’s provocative, but the edge is offset by her calm expression. The Latin on the gun seems to have gotten overlapped when the sheet was applied, but it reads, “silentium est aureum” or “silence is golden”. This is a piece I wish I had drawn and now, I wish was on my wall.

Based on the handwritten graffiti, it also strikes a reaction in others as well.

Midtown, Manhattan.

Wandering around some of the little towns outside of New York City and we found this wonderful piece of public sculpture — a giant head laying on it’s side on a massive marble stone. It’s the first of an edition of six cast from a 38 ton marble sculpture from artist Henry Schiowitz. The name of the series is Homage to the Masters.

It’s truly impressive in three ways. First, the concept. It’s an idea I’ve always loved — the mystery of a forgotten past, a broken piece of an epic tale fallen and discarded just waiting for discovery. It triggers all the fantasy and science fiction stories I’ve read. It echoes the pyramids of Egypt and Guatemala and those past civilizations. It’s the concept of something bigger than ourselves reinforcing our short lives and the fallacy of ego against time. I want one in my yard. I need one in my yard half buried looking out at the forest.

Secondly, the scale. The bronze weighs over 2,100 pounds and the marble base weighs 14 tons. It’s just…giant. You can almost feel the weight. There is also a delicacy to the sculpture as all that bronze is balanced on the stone at only three points.

The third impressive feature (or perhaps mystery), is the location. It’s perched just off the sidewalk next to a residential house and in front of a parking lot. It’s claustrophobic for something so massive. Something so big needs more space to breathe. Perhaps the location choice was intentional — to put it somewhere unexpected, as if the town grew up around the ancient head to imbue it with a deeper sense of time and history. To magnify this odd location choice, it’s directly across the street from an small public park (and parking lot). One would think a park would be the natural choice for a public sculpture, but no, it sits…amidst the modern world somewhat hidden and diminished from it’s past glory.

Sparkill, New York.

It’s always nice to find street art in a neighborhood filled with high end art galleries. A good sized stencil piece tucked inside a loading dock reminiscent in subject matter of that other famous, shall not be identified street artist. Plus, the bonus of people being moved enough by it to contribute their own messages.

Chelsea, Manhattan.

An older photo I found in the archives that never got posted. It looks to be a commission from TotemGraffx for a cannabis shop next door. I recall it being a bit hidden with an overpass (maybe the High Line?) to the left. The whole black background helps to keep it a little unnoticed while still making all the gorgeous foreground colors stand out. Also an interesting contradiction between the loose feather painting (almost brush like) and the precision line work in the lettering below.

Midtown, Manhattan.

I feel like I know this dog. He’s patient. She’s kind. The illustration is simple and emotive. The thick white border is a sign of an experienced hand. It’s not easy to make minimal be immediately recognizable.

Midtown, Manhattan.