Other People’s Street Art
In the heart of London grows a lovely field of guerrilla gardening lavender. After wondering about the green and leafy guerrilla gardening world for so long it was high time I joined the guerrilla gardening crew and got my hands dirty.
Zuts alors! What do you get if you mix one yarnstorming graffiti knitter, one pile of insanely coloured yarn and the biggest comics festival in Europe? You get the Weekend of the Woolly Wildflowers!
Then Tate Britain invited me to graffiti knit at their Tate Late event. What better way to honour my street art heroes than to shove them stitchwise into one of London’s most well-respected art museums? And so my Stitched Street Art Salute was cast on.
I started my sixth day in Augsburg with beer for breakfast. Happily I wasn’t partaking in morning drinking alone as a way of surviving fish-tank living. This was our introduction to a traditional Bavarian breakfast. Since I’d spent half the night up knitting pigs I was up for some revenge on pigkind. So booze and […]
Sew. I don’t really sew. The art of brandishing such a tiny needle makes my neck ache just thinking about it. But there is something about a city like Augsburg that beckons different sides of you from the dark places you shoved them and lets them out into the sunshine. In fact I hadn’t been […]
Zombielike I made it to the London’s not-so-Londony Stansted Airport this morning just in time to grab a cup of tea and dash to my flight. It was my second attempt to leave for Augsburg this week, having been horribly misled by my tired brain into thinking I was leaving on Saturday (resulting in three […]
Start spreading the news, I’m leaving in less than 24 hours… Tomorrow I’m heading off to the city of Augsburg in Germany (about 6 miles outside Munich, in Bavaria in southern Germany) to take part in what I am calling ‘German Arty Big Brother’ and what the people who run it are calling defined by___ […]
Yesterday morning I was art. It was all the fault of Mr Antony Gormley, whose cast-iron sculptures scared the bejesus out of half of London in 2007 by peering down from South Bank rooftops like rusty angels of death.
Guerilla knitting. Street art that sings the same yarn-flavoured tune I do. Always had vague fluffy plans of releasing my knits into the city I am in all kinds of love with. Always admired those who have done it before me. Never really dreamed I would be standing nervously in the shadow of St Paul’s […]