Laser 3.14 Are You Reading Me?-USED

Description

Title: Laser 3.14 Are You Reading Me?
Author: Laser 3.14
Paperback
Language: English
Pages: 160
Published: 2009
Dimensions: 24 x 22 x 1.8 cm. / 9.4 x 8.7 x 0.7 inch.
Condition: Cover: 9.5/10 Inside: 10/10

Laser 3.14! You see his name in the Amsterdam streets. Coming from the school of graffiti stylewriting, Laser changed his name into Laser 3.14 and blessed the city streets with his poetry still using the spraycan as his favourite tool and with a  ‘getting up’ attitute. This photobook brings his street scribbling to your livingroom. Leaving you wondering what’s driving Laser 3.14 to write his name and the stuff he wants you to read. Urban communication at it’s purest: handwritten messages, getting a point across, in your face, illegal! Next time you visit the Dutch capital city you’ ll pay attention, reading the streets!– Timski

I see the city as my canvas. The streets scream poetry. Sometimes deafening, sometimes dazzling, often both at the same time. In the streets you see different layers of the population moving on this imaginary canvas, life there, exuberant, sometimes restrained. You hear squabbling in the street, fragments of beautiful piano playing that blows past you from a three-store floor on a beautiful summer evening. The streets show various buildings, irregular street tiles, torn posters, painted walls and weathered fences, in short: the city screams poetry. There is no difference whatsoever between the work that I add to this city and the poetry of the streets, of this city itself. The only difference is that my work is clearly deliberately placed poetry visible to the public. In contrast to the poetry of the city, which is not accessible to everyone, not only because one has to consciously open up to it. Sometimes it is simply not visible to many. I deliberately place the texts on non-permanent places, surfaces and construction fences. As a result, the lyrics are not of a permanent nature. Because they can disappear at any moment, a dynamic arises in the large, continuously changing poem. You cannot put an expiry date on the transience of a city. It is an established fact that this city and all its poetry -even though the (best before) date is unknown to anyone- is fundamentally and immutably anchored in transience.