The Library

It's almost 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and due to some family drama, only worth noting as an explanation for the tardiness of this post, I was almost going to skip posting today. I figured, who cares anyhow? Turns out that I do. So, as I often do, I headed to the nearest library to find whatever was to be found. And, as usual, I found plenty!

I roamed the History section, perusing everything between the First Crusade and up to the end of the Cold War. (The Cold War is one of my favorite subjects because I grew up during the height of it.) From there it was on to the Biography section, where I dropped in on the likes of Stalin, Newton, Peggy Lee (read that one once), Asimov (outstanding autobiography) Danny Thomas, Ben Franklin, Lincoln and so on. Then I got to the Oversized Books where I stayed for almost an hour. There were books of Photograhs from the late 1800's by Jacob Riis in New York and photos of the San Francisco Earthquake alongside photobooks of the Great Depression and the more contemporary masters like Ansel Adams. Even today's visual arts, including Grafitti, were represented on those shelves. The picture at the top of this page is "Still Life with Female Bust" by artist  Everett Spruill. I'm generally more of a traditionilist; I like Monet, Manet, etc., but this painting is so vivid and colorful that it cannot help but affect the viewer in some way. And it did, so here it is.

I took out an oversized book of Norman Rockwell paintings, two books on history and 6 DVD's. Two are documentaries that I have not seen before, the History Channel's "History of the Joke" with Lewis Black and Volume 4 of the PBS Series "Eyes On the Prize." Having just watched "Mississippi Burning" last week I wanted to see some old, archival footage of the actual events portrayed in that film.

The point of this is not to fill space, but rather, to highlight the need for Public Libraries in the first place. They serve as a destination for all ages and ethnic groups. They are a reflection of our culture. And on a cloudy day in my heart, they serve as a light to my soul.

"graffiti NEW YORK" by Eric Felisbret

I have never really understood graffiti. Having been born when graffiti was considered vandalism and a crime it has been hard for me to see it as a legitimate, albeit often interesting, form of art.

TV has also done a good job of painting graffiti (excuse the pun) as the expression of urban gang turf wars. Reading this book has taken me beyond that shallow perception.

In "graffiti NEW YORK" the author introduces us to the artists and their motivations for creating these modern urban murals. He has also observed and participated in the Graffiti movement for over 30 years. He is recognized as an authority on the form and context of the art.

Loaded with page after page of New Yorks best Graffiti, Mr. Felisbret, formerly of the DEAL and CIA graffiti groups, offers insight into the whys, hows and meanings of the various forms that adorn everything from subway cars to the sides of buildings and even bridges.

What statements are these artists trying to make? Are they really artists? And how do the police view these off beat modern troubadours of urban art? The book is informative and filled with the colors of urban living. And though I generally don't like it, I will never look at graffiti in the same benign way again.