“The Walk to Sonnenallee Station” 16″ x 20″ Acrylic on Canvas Resa Dance, Artist
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It’s funny how the mind works. At home in the US, if I see graffiti on buildings or overpasses or trains I am annoyed. But arriving in Berlin – where there is more graffiti than I’ve ever seen in my life! – I am suddenly entranced. Why?
I suspect it’s partially a reflection of my wide open mood and mode: Free from any responsibilities and spending a whole week with my oldest son, who lives in Berlin, what’s not to love? To see all types of graffiti and street art wherever I look is amusing. Captivating.
Delighting in “vandalized” buildings? I’m smiling and just can’t get over it! My American mindset steps aside and this surprising affinity for graffiti awakens several strands of thought: thoughts that question my definitions of previously settled issues. What is freedom? What is art and what is its role? Does propriety hold more value than freedom of expression? Does private property deserve more respect than public property? Last year, I would have had fast answers for these questions. Today, not so much.
Not that I would applaud – or even tolerate – my house or car being tagged with spray paint. That my own walls are safely tucked away on the other side of the world surely plays a part in my unrestrained attitude. (Also, the fact that I can’t understand any of words that might be scary or threatening.) But seeing so much spirited expression painted literally everywhere, I notice that somewhere inside me, a latent spark of generous acceptance has fluttered into flame. Free from the rules I normally live by, I can receive and appreciate – without offense – the artistic attempts of those who hope passersby will notice…think… care.
But I do wonder: as I leave this place of curious vibrancy and return to my usual surroundings, will this unanticipated sense of openness survive? Or will this fledgling awareness be overcome by sensibility, returning obediently to its protected (should I say useless?) state?
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