On my own: Street Art in NoDa
Leaving the wheelchair.
The first day of spring and two years in a wheelchair left me antsy to get out of this
prison house, and with the good doctor’s permission to drive, I finally get to escape on my own. I head to NoDa, the art district of Charlotte. I have not been here since the amputation. I hunger for the sunshine, the buzz of conversations, the beauty of unique, imperfect faces. It led me directly to Smelly Cat, my favorite coffee shop. The smell of coffee, the diverse crowd and the friendly sight of my favorite barista makes me feel like I have found nirvana. I experience a sense of euphoria, much like a new love. I faced death over the past years, and now I believe that I understand the value of living. I appreciate this moment of freedom.
I sit here drinking the warm dark roast. The aroma wakes me up as I spend the time eavesdropping on the tables near me. I feel that I need to be productive. I want a project, something to show the appreciation of being out in the world again. My walking is limited, so I need something to do from behind the wheel of my beloved Honda Element. As I sit looking out the shop window I notice a piece of street art. It clicks. I finish the nectar in my hand. I clumsily climb into the car to look for more street art to photograph from the window of my car. In essence, a necessary technique of the lazy man.
In search of Street Art
I love photography more than any other form of art. I have been to many great museums in Europe, and also have a great appreciation for the paintings. They represent a concept or an interpretation of what the artists see, yet a photograph freezes actual time. It is real. It is magic. Below is my gallery of graffiti art. I mix both painting and photography. You can see the artist’s expression, but the picture freezes it in time. Their work will one day be painted over or faded with wear. The cameras will forever hold these creations as they are today.