Currently showing at Friendly’s Community in Berwyn, IL.
The photos were accompanied by the following poem written by Chris.
I like to ride through places you know
but pretend don’t exist.
you pass them
windows up,
music on,
like that keeps the stink out.
i sit.
i watch.
don’t expect much
or maybe I do.
just the train above,
screaming through rusted steel.
the smell of piss.
graffiti half-covered by worse graffiti.
I imagine the paint, running, screaming
The kind of artist no one claps for.
A dark misinterpreted pattern
you could see it too
if you bothered.
stand still.
get low.
walk past the end of the street
where the sidewalk gives up.
light leaks in through busted concrete
like it’s trying to get away from this place.
there’s life down here.
not the kind you post about.