Artist Will Power for the win, at 2nd Ave and Houston.

There is something in street art. There is no pretense of lasting fame. It’s there while it lasts. It won’t be interred in a museum, and it’s ironic that museum takes all its letters from mausoleum. So does that mean that there’s humility in street art? In a sense, yes there is. Also, what you get in place of mummified art is legend. You get mythology.

We pay a fortune for old things, and all the while the real value is in the impermanent and ephemeral. What’s more precious than life, despite that it’s so fucking finite? Despite? I misspoke. Because.

Because it’s finite.