Through a countless series of u-turns, wrong turns and blinker-less lane changes, came a project which examines the bizarre instances of graffiti cover-ups. The found art photographed in these pages wasn't meant to be art at all, but served a more conventional purpose - to smother the art of others. In essence, this project reclaims them and shows their transition from one construct to their new, yet temporary form.



Most of these paintings were made by an anonymous, annoyed business owner or hastily-dispatched city worker. The splotches of color and random pigment have been lathered with a careless quickness and force meant to simply delete the spontaneous thought and scribble of another human.



A gang member tag. A graffiti artist's piece in progress. A bored tween with a can of spray paint that his father won't miss.



The canvas is temporary. In fact, most of these walls have been already been repainted themselves. The building spaces which once played a role of makeshift gallery have been returned to their even, predictable color. For the time being. Some of the cover-ups have multiple revisions. Some show the passive aggressive war between pre-artist and post-artist. What they all accomplish is a stoppage of time and emotion between two humans who more than likely have no idea who the other is.



The resulting images evoke the late works of Mark Rothko's large multiform paintings that were completely filled by somewhat errant, yet strictly composed geometric shapes - shapes allowed to flow from their borders into a more organic representation of space. They were meant to overwhelm and swallow up the viewer. These photographs instead allow the room for the viewer to breathe and see the unintended art in their context.



In an alley. On a loading dock. Against a foreclosed home. Along the tracks.



Anywhere.



Just not on my wall.