A sneaking feeling I’m being stalked…
Today started like any other Sunday; breakfast, shower, drive in the car. My usual parking space off Curtain Rd was once more occupied by Shepard Fairey who was up his cherry picker again on the phone. I drove past slightly irritated and on towards Great Eastern St where I finally found a bay in Leonard St.
This disruption to my schedule kind of put me off wanting to take any photographs so instead I wandered around the White Canvas Project looking for some inspiration. I found it in the shape of Will Barras doing a live paint of what appeared to be The Grand National on acid.
I stayed watching Will Barras paint until my mood reached the city limits of chillsville and I felt back to my normal self. He is a calm, relaxed and focused artist and it was kind of spell-binding to watch him work.
Outside Jorge Rodriguez-Gerada gently works a wall
All the tranquillity on the west side of the road was juxtaposed with what appeared to be media mayhem on the east side where Ben Slow & Remi/Rough finished their collaborative wall which was started with Amanda Marie last week.
As the sun went down I said my goodbyes to the artists, the photographers and the spectators and made my way back to the car to discover that parked right next to it was the cherry picker that Shepard Fairey works with but this time he was not on his phone…
Coincidence you may say but my inner voice said different: “Paging Ms Preston, paging Ms Preston… we have a stalker alert”.
Everywhere I turned this week, every street I parked in and every wall I looked at I saw Shepard Fairey. I took some close up shots of him just so he knew that I knew, then he’d know that I know sort of thing and I was tempted to do the ‘I’m watching you’ hand gesture that Robert De Niro immortalised when he played Jack Byrnes but decided against it as I thought it’d probably get lost in translation.
He continued to cut his paste up, obviously he’d figured out that I was onto his ‘cell phone’ facade (a thinly disguised veil for his stalking) and had changed tact to employ a scalpel knife instead, shit his hands were even covered in paint.
I stood and watched him for 5 minutes, thinking that maybe a little reverse psychology might quell this mild obsession of his, they say that stalkers only really stalk people who pay no interest to them, so I gave him my full attention and watched until the Obey Giant and his all seeing eyes were looming over Shoreditch.