The house with a large LD42 on it caught my attention for several reasons. First, I’m always looking for interesting graffiti, and this was definitely interesting. The colors, though muted, still stand out on the gray background. That brings me to the second thing that got my attention: the background was a house. A small house of the type you don’t really find anymore, with just two bedrooms, a small kitchen, a small bath, a little front sitting area. Some would call it cozy. Most would probably call it cramped or claustrophobia-inducing. It’s in an area that’s not exactly gentrifying, but right on a major road, along the same stretch as a small used car dealership, a vape shop, a car wash place, and across the street from a gym with a rock climbing wall. And if you take the first turn you’ll find Pink Door Cookies.
Finally there’s the number 42, made famous by Douglas Adams as the answer to life, the universe, and everything, not to be confused with Adams’ The Meaning Of Liff, but that’s another story.
Zew42 is a local tagger and there’s even a 42 Crew who do a combination of graffiti and commissioned work, which, I think, is a common evolution for most street artists these days. At least the ones with talent and drive get recognized, even if they have to start by tagging. It’s a shame but one of the benefits of the internet is it makes it easier for these artists to be found and offered work. Graffiti has also become a lot less local which has given it a level of respect it didn’t always have.
It’s also a lucky thing I documented the graffiti when I did. The house is, as I said, in a commercial area, and no one’s lived there for a very long time. There may have been some legal wranglings over the ownership and value of the property, or maybe no one cared enough to bother with it. Maybe there have been plans to use it in an unlit cellar with no stairs or lights, in a filing cabinet in an unused lavatory with a sign on the door saying “Beware of the Leopard.”
Anyway a day after I took the picture the house was bulldozed which seems like even more of a tribute to Douglas Adams than the number 42.
I always appreciate the wistfulness in your writing, Chris, which so gracefully hints at the meaning of life.
Somehow I find lessons in everything. Is that strange? I think your tendency to find songs in so many things is better.
I think your tendency is wonderful!