Mendel Quoth:

lyrical death by means of ink and paper

That swallowing chameleons makes you blue

we stuck together , our love was the glue

I don’t like chicken noodle or even beef stew

Mendel’s Serenade

lyrical death by means of ink and paper

Robots dance through fields of daisies

You say “pitty-pitty-pat” but disolve into a whisper

In Idaho and surrounding border counties,

Mendel’s Serenade

lyrical death by means of ink and paper

n-dimensional hypervolume is the phrase of the day

You say “pitty-pitty-pat” but disolve into a whisper

But the day-white smell always rips my dreams away

Catch this Daddio:

lyrical death by means of ink and paper

The pseudo-taco was very bland

You say “pitty-pitty-pat” but disolve into a whisper

I can chop off your right hand

Mendel’s Serenade

lyrical death by means of ink and paper

on fiddles Italian or Flemish

You say “pitty-pitty-pat” but disolve into a whisper

or a purple spiderfish

Mendel’s Serenade

lyrical death by means of ink and paper

my eye is full of glimmeries

You say “pitty-pitty-pat” but disolve into a whisper

And chase them across the skies

Mendel’s Serenade

lyrical death by means of ink and paper

tick tock meowed the clock

You say “pitty-pitty-pat” but disolve into a whisper

phil and the bearded clocks

Dig on this:

lyrical death by means of ink and paper

I integrated the flux, and thus refined the mesh

You say “pitty-pitty-pat” but disolve into a whisper

oh that this too too sullied flesh

” brings the viewer face to face with the fantasy world of the painter or writer, and the artist tries not to filter the scene through his or her conscious mind. This means that the viewer is truly seeing into the dreams of the artist, and can interpret the work as he or she wishes.”

Basically put, an artist using a Veristic surrealist style depicts an unfiltered fantasy to the viewer so that the viewer can interpret the work in his or her own individual way.

So here’s my attempt at Veristic style surrealism

When I spit, I spit paint.
my words flow, and into minds I taint

envisioned with vivid murals.

It censorship, they way they seal my lips

the way my hands are gripped
I endure whips and hardships

they forget my kingship

my kinship to nobility, my heirship to the throne

only when I moan, they see my thoughts

it’s only when I groan, and cough up inkblots

cuz they associate me to crackpots and gunshots

them hotshot robots playing slots in their fancy yachts

Conformity, uniformity it’s the automaton of society.

Can’t life just lie to me, instead of flying past me?

My hands dance on its fingertips, and on them I scrawl

as if they marked the walls of Jericho, causing its benevolent fall

they only stall the inevitable.
my loyal subjects will carry on my work preaching with voices of  extreme decibels

I’l deafen the masses, until this facist society crashes

cuz they stole my crown and left me with gashes
those asses just want to cremate the king and dash my ashes

but there isn’t just one of me,

cuz as one of us falls, immediately emerges three

knights will take up my crown and become the next generation of kings

when we bomb the twin towers our acts are labeled as terrorizing

society, and all of it’s predetermined things

if we throwup they automatically toss us into the bin

our words are our sins,  so we wage a war we can never win

So if the pen is mightier than the swords, is the marker stronger than the gun?
the war has begun so I must take preemptive action

I’ll mark my place and erase your face from the human race by defacing it with this marker as my weapon
and of course you’ll retort with your cohorts shooting us up with guns of all sorts

but what you cant take from us is this distort reality

I will always have this mentality

built firmly upon this substantiality

because I spit paint and ink flows from my fingertips

you view my truths as cryptic

but in reality

your just sadistic.

Whenever I think of Steve Venright, I remember his book “Spiral Agitator,” and although I’ve never read it, I can’t help but remember its cover. I’ve always thought of it to portray his “psychedelic” view of things because the cover reminded me of one of those tie-dye shirts hippies wear and get baked in, and after reading a short biography on him, I can kinda see where this idea comes from. Apparently Venright, even before his exposure to surrealist texts, explored deliriomantic states of entrancement in his writing process, which gives me the notion that his writing is definitely abstract. What really confirmed my thoughts on his views of writing is this line in his biography which states:

“My words, at its best, are psychedelic”- Steve Venright

This made really got my brain juices flowing, because I didn’t initially understand what he mean’t by this. After looking into the various definitions of “psychedelic” and “surrealism” I came across the realization that if surrealism is writing based on the subconscious significance of imagery then this psychedelic state Venright speaks of, is the best of his work as a surrealist writer because his writing, being “psychedelic,” is taking the notion of his work being in a state of severe perceptual distortion and an intensified sensory perception fitting the style of surrealist texts in its prime. I wonder if Venright actually got high during his writing process or not, in order to aid him into reaching this “deliriomantic” state, mentioned earlier in his biography. Whether or not if he did, I plan on reading his book, “Spiral Agitator,” just to see what writing looks like if you were either actually high or in a self induced state of high

“My mother used to say that children, poets and schizophrenics all use language in a similar way”
- Gil Adamson

“The lack of skull, the absence of boundaries.”
-Stuart Ross

Freight train bombing done by early graffiti trendsetter dondi white

Initially, I believed that graffiti could only be seen as two things: a form of vandalism or modern street art. As I did some background research on the topic i came across the history of graffiti and more or less its roots. Apparently it dates back to more than 30 000 BCE which came as a huge surprise to me since i always thought the graffiti movement started in the 1960′s making it a more modern form of art. This took me by surprise since i figured it was the early Hip-Hop culture which gave precedence to graffiti as a form of art although this didn’t seem to be the case.
To me, graffiti has always been more than just a form of art or expression, it almost serves as a gateway into the imagination of an individual. It has no boundaries, not even the edge of a sheet of paper can limit it possibilities, and there is no specific way to create it. It could be words or symbols, drawings – even scribbles could be presented as someone’s graffiti and although there are popular styles such as wildstyle and flava sava, graffiti is loosely based on an individual’s style or preference and therefore anyone can create their own style making graffiti an ever expanding form of art.
Some previous knowledge I had about graffiti, being the hierarchy of classes (Pawn, Knight then King/Queen) made me wonder:
1) how would one achieve this status?
2) how would other artists know to acknowledge statuses

3) how would artists enforce who gets to crown their tags?

The complexity of the whole hierarchy definitely leaves me speechless since it’s a concept I’m still trying to grasp although it also puts some negative connotation on graffiti as an art since it implies graffiti artist thrive to boost there renown instead of tagging or bombing for more aesthetic reasons. Others would argue that beyond beauty, some graffiti is done to damage or deface property and i wouldn’t disagree with these claims for certain graffiti forms such as throwies and tags but I would disagree with murals being considered as vandalism since it is a graffiti artist’s representation of thoughts, ideas and expressions in the most refined way possible. In the future I plan on trying out different graffiti styles, even experiment with the use of spray paints on canvases or walls but for now, practice makes perfect