Welcome the BSA Images of the Week! Recent exhibitions, festivals, mural programs, and artist movements demonstrate that street art’s vitality continues to evolve—shifting from unsanctioned and underground to mainstream and institutional, and then back to the public streets. Far from fading, the street art and graffiti movement continues to adapt and engage more people, sparking dialogue about art, culture, creativity, property, politics, and its role in urban life. Our inbox at ABC runs like the city itself: fast, loud, nonstop—thankfully, this deli coffee is strong.
Global Graffiti Festival: The Meeting of Styles international graffiti festival just took over Rruga B Street in Kosovo’s capital, marking its 9th edition in Pristina. The city’s embrace of this festival – and the participation of artists from as far afield as Europe, the Americas, and Asia – underscores how the street art movement continues to span the globe, including places that rarely feature in mainstream art news.
As we speed through block parties, outdoor concerts, graffiti jams, and the end of New York’s summer art scene, we note next month’s arrival of the Gaza Biennale, a roving exhibition spotlighting artists from the embattled Gaza Strip. Previously exhibited in London, Berlin, and Athens, the show is a powerful cultural statement, taking place at 19 venues across 12 cities worldwide. The biennale’s New York iteration will span five days (September 10-14) at the non-profit art space Recess in Brooklyn.
Theatergoers have been flocking to Central Park’s Delacorte Theater for Twelfth Night, starring Peter Dinklage and Sandra Oh – in this New York tradition that’s open to everyone. Fans are lining up hours—even overnight—for free tickets, turning the event into a communal spectacle of Shakespeare for our treacherous time, of this moment.
“If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.” (Twelfth Night, Act III, Scene IV)
Here’s our weekly interview with the street, this week featuring works from Acet, AIC Mosaic, Below Key, Benny CRuz, Hektad, Homesick, JerkFace, Marly McFly, Obey, Paul Richard, Qzar, Sasha Gordon, Shepard Fairey, Tom Bob NYC, and Werds.
In a city like New York, where money is too often mistaken for worth, some know better—and live like it—quietly disproving the myths about success that only reveal their emptiness over time. Here, community and creativity are the true currency, making you richer than you ever imagined. Share.
Cory Jacobs and Jason Schmidt’s short documentary, The Candy Factory, drops you into one of those moments and lets you stay there long enough to feel its gravity. The film traces the story of Ann Ballentine, a Brooklyn landlord who understood that the most valuable thing in a building isn’t its square footage—it’s the people who inhabit it. For four decades, she rented studios in a former candy factory in Clinton Hill to painters, sculptors, musicians, designers, and filmmakers, asking for fair rent and providing something the market has no way to price: stability, trust, and a sense of belonging.
The Candy Factory by The New Yorker. (still from the video)
The tenants and their dedication turned a block into a beacon, making the work that becomes the soul of a neighborhood before the brokers and developers ever think to rename it. In interviews and quiet moments, Jacobs and Schmidt capture their shared history and present reality, weaving together laughter, craft, and resilience. These are not the ornamental “creatives” used to brand a condo brochure or website; they are the lifeblood, the first to arrive and often the first to be pushed out, a profit is to be made.
Ballentine’s defiance was not loud but unwavering. She decided, simply, that she had enough—that her life would be measured not by accumulation but by what she helped to sustain. In New York, that choice is radical. In a market that teaches landlords to extract until nothing is left, she preserved a rare commons where collaboration could outlast the rent cycle. It’s not about romanticism, its about ethics.
The Candy Factory is both a portrait and a document, a reminder that cultural wealth is built slowly, in shared spaces, over decades—and that it can be erased in a single sale.
The Candy Factory by The New Yorker. Chrissy. Painter. Tenant at The Candy Factory. (still from the video)The Candy Factory by The New Yorker. Artwork by Kele, tenant at The Candy Factory. (still from the video)The Candy Factory by The New Yorker. Artwork by Kathy, tenant at The Candy Factory. (still from the video)
Patcharapol Tangruen, also known as Alex Face, is regarded as a quietly thoughtful presence in contemporary street art. Trained in Bangkok in fine and applied arts, he began his practice in the early 2000s, gradually shifting from lettering to a figurative focus. His enduring signature character—a small child in a rabbit suit—carries an emotional weight connecting innocence and contemplation.
Alex Face. Summer 2025 residency at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. (photo courtesy of the gallery)
His work consistently blends the immediacy of Street Art with a calm, painterly sensibility. He can create large-scale public paintings with a sense of focus, embedding his character and imagined story into the environment. His projects have traveled beyond Thailand, appearing across Asia, Europe, and the Americas.
Caminhos Esquecidos is his first fully realized solo show in Portugal, conceived during a residency at The Holdout Art Farm on the Silver Coast. As he pedaled through orchards and along the shoreline, Alex Face translated the subtle light, weathered surfaces, and hushed corners of rural Portugal into ten new paintings. In each, his familiar figure appears as a reflective observer—quietly acknowledging the land, its textures, the lingering stillness.
Alex Face. Summer 2025 residency at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Summer 2025 residency at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Caminhos Esquecidos. Andenken Gallery at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. Summer 2025. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Caminhos Esquecidos. Andenken Gallery at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. Summer 2025. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Caminhos Esquecidos. Andenken Gallery at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. Summer 2025. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Caminhos Esquecidos. Andenken Gallery at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. Summer 2025. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Camino da Rua Capela. Caminhos Esquecidos. Andenken Gallery at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. Summer 2025. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Moinhos do Rio das Antas. Caminhos Esquecidos. Andenken Gallery at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. Summer 2025. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Esquinas das Casas Brancas. Caminhos Esquecidos. Andenken Gallery at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. Summer 2025. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Ruinas da Rua do Salgueiral. Caminhos Esquecidos. Andenken Gallery at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. Summer 2025. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Kids enjoying Alex’s outdoor painting in Alcobaca. Summer 2025 residency at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. (photo courtesy of the gallery)Alex Face. Completed mural in Alcobaca. Summer 2025 residency at The Holdout Art Farm, Portugal. (photo courtesy of the gallery)
“Flow on, river! flow with the flood-tide, and ebb with the ebb-tide! Frolic on, crested and scallop-edg’d waves! Gorgeous clouds of the sunset! drench with your splendor me, or the men and women generations after me! Cross from shore to shore, countless crowds of passengers!” ~ Crossing Brooklyn Ferry, Walt Whitman, 1860
Here’s our weekly interview with the street, this time featuring Caryn Cast, Chris (Robots Will Kill), Christian Penn, Fumero, Hugus, IMK, James Vance, Jenna Morello, Joao is Typing, Kosuke James, LeCrue Eyebrows, Luch, Mike Shine, Nandos Art, Ninth Wave Studio, Ottograph, Peachee Blue, Prez Arecta, Renek X, and VEW.
Remarkably, the volume of attention directed toward transfolk in some U.S. media and legislation during the most recent decade has been strikingly disproportionate to their size. For example, a 2022 Media Matters study found that Fox News aired over 170 segments about trans people in just three weeks, with fiery verbiage that often framed them as societal threats of some kind. In the same year, over 300 anti-trans bills were introduced across U.S. state legislatures, marking a sharp escalation despite the group’s relatively small size. Influential political figures, such as Florida Governor Ron DeSantis, have made restricting trans healthcare and education content central to their platforms. At the same time, Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito included attacks on LGBTQ+ rights in his opinions, suggesting broader rollback intentions. Meanwhile, religious leaders such as Franklin Graham have labeled gender-affirming care as “evil,” framing trans existence as a cultural battleground.
Amy Sherald. “Trans Forming Liberty”. The New Yorker. Aug. 11, 2025
This painting—featured on the cover of The New Yorker this month—portrays a Black transgender woman striking the pose of the Statue of Liberty. It drew national attention this spring after sparking controversy around its proposed inclusion in Amy Sherald’s exhibition American Sublime at the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery. “Figuration is the Soul Food of art making. It’s like what takes you back home,” says the artist in the video below.
Video via Art21
This barrage of intense emotion focused on such a small segment of society reflects not population size, but the strategic use of trans identity as a political and ideological wedge. By the way they have been preaching and legislating, you’d think trans people were leading an uprising, storming the gates—with nothing but pronouns and self-respect as weapons. More likely, this is a ginned-up outrage that is good for fundraising for religious posers and for getting low-knowledge voters to the polls, now that topics like abortion, gays, guns, and blacks are either too complicated or don’t have the cultural zing they once did.
In this context, a Black trans woman—even in a painting—set off alarms loud enough to derail a major traveling exhibition. When Amy Sherald’s portrait appeared on the cover of The New Yorker, it wasn’t just art critics who noticed; gatekeepers got nervous and jittery. Sherald, best known for her regal portraits that challenge the visual grammar of Black representation, found her work caught in the crossfire of culture war politics. What followed was a quiet act of protest by artists who refused to let reactionary censorship set the terms. This new video enables the work to speak—calm, composed, undeniable. The work speaks for itself.
In his new solo exhibition, MONEY, at London’s BSMT Gallery, Brazilian artist Cranio uses his signature wit – sharpened like a ceremonial blade. Known for his blue-skinned Indigenous protagonist who wanders through this contemporary chaos, Cranio has built a practice over the last two decades that disarms – and provokes.
This time, he’s aiming squarely at the culture of consumerism — and some of the spiritual compromises that come with it. Curated by the gallery team and grounded in satire, MONEY is more critique: it’s a mirror held up to a society sadly tangled in symbols of wealth. He’s also attempting to put a spiritual, intellectual price tag on the price we pay for our enslavement.
Having seen Cranio’s work rise from the walls of São Paulo’s east side to global prominence, it’s clear that his characters are not just visual signatures — they are autobiographical echoes and social barometers. Born Fabio de Oliveira Parnaíba in 1982, Cranio began painting in 1998 as part of the Hip Hop and graffiti culture that shaped a generation of Brazilian artists.
CRANIO (photo courtesy of the BSMT)
His Indigenous figure is no twee caricature; it’s part avatar, part ancestor — navigating globalized landscapes that are layered with complexities of identity, displacement, and resistance. Not heavy on preaching, he presents the conundrum wrapped in its absurdity.
In MONEY, the blue characters wear gold chains, clutch designer bags, and participate in almost religious consumer rituals — not as villains, but as tragicomic stand-ins for all of us. They speak to the slow corrosion of values in a world where meaning is increasingly manufactured.
CRANIO (photo courtesy of the BSMT)CRANIO (photo courtesy of the BSMT)CRANIO (photo courtesy of the BSMT)CRANIO (photo courtesy of the BSMT)
Join BSMT Gallery for the opening night of ‘MONEY’ on August 7th, 2025, from 6-9 pm. The show runs from August 8th to August 24th
Welcome to BSA Images of the Week! It’s the Wild West out here, and there, there, there, and there. Is this deliberate? Does it all have to go up in a fireball, people? Honestly.
Here’s our weekly interview with the street, this time featuring Ben Keller, BIR, Buff Monster, Caleb Neelon, Caryn Cast, Fernando “SKI” Romero, Homesick, Joe Iurato, Kam. S. Art., Katie Yamasaki, Loky Oner, Marco Checcheto, NAST 404, Paul Richard, Porkshop, RUDE, Sky Adler, Wild West, and Yo Skills.
CYCLES Madrid – Spain, 2025 I spy a guy who used to do conceptual murals and now does kinetic sculpture. Madrid-based artist SpY began his career with clever, often humorous street interventions that disrupted everyday urban routines—turning public space into a stage for reflection and play. Over the years, his work has shifted from ephemeral gestures to ambitious sculptural installations, without losing the conceptual sharpness.
His newest piece, Cycles, debuts in Madrid – Composed of nine stainless-steel rings stacked in delicate balance, the kinetic sculpture rotates continuously, creating a hypnotic display of shifting forms and optical illusions. What appears to be a static figure one moment becomes a blur of layered motion. The piece invites viewers to question what’s stable and what’s in flux— time and movement blended as sculptural elements in themselves.
There’s a quiet tension to it all: minimal material, maximal effect. In this transition from walls to mechanical choreography, SpY stays true to his roots—reviewing what we perceive as space, systems, and being alive in the moment.
Bartek Świątecki’s “Fireflies” Illuminates a Memory From New York in a Polish Cityscape
Known for his abstract compositions that balance precision and spontaneity, Bartek Świątecki has consistently pushed the visual language of urban abstraction. His walls—featured several times on Brooklyn Street Art—often reflect a dynamic interplay of geometry, layering, and movement, evoking rhythm and structure without relying on figuration.
His newest mural, painted in Olsztyn, Poland, carries a personal connection to a recent moment far from home. “I’m sending you my new summer wall from Olsztyn, Poland. I’ve named it Fireflies,” Świątecki tells us.
“During my last trip to New York with my wife, we spent an evening in Central Park. We spread a blanket on the grass, and fireflies began to appear around us. It was a magical moment—in the heart of the city, surrounded by these tiny, twinkling lights, we felt like we were in a completely different world.”
It’s a fitting gesture: in Świątecki’s work, urban density and openness coexist. Here, as in New York’s Central Park, there’s a sense of quiet order amid the unpredictable, a space where something fleeting and luminous might appear.
“I decided to name my new wall ‘Fireflies’ in honor of that moment—that fusion of nature and city, that subtle magic that can be found even in the midst of chaos.“
This week’s collection leans toward graffiti—city writers rekindling a romance with old styles, tracing our urban aesthetic lineage with fresh hands, new eyes, and scribes. Beyond that, the crime stats continue their long downward drift, despite some corporate outlets insisting our city is in daily chaos, as if Bedlam had moved in. Immigrants are valued members of New York’s sense of community and multi-culture, as ever, but a strangely well-funded machine would have you think differently- if they could. NYC is far more youthful, open-hearted, and innovative than that kind of thinking can imagine.
National heaviness seeps into the local air: relentless headlines, instability abroad, inhumanity and warmaking, higher costs, service cuts to some of the most in need, attacks on institutions—and on your search for sanity. You can feel it rumbling like the subway underneath: a slow, grinding disquiet, the weight of evident inequalities, the steady drip of absurdity and distraction.
Maybe that’s why the streets speak in heightened tones: sometimes glorious, other times surreal, opaque, saccharine, macabre. Rage simmers alongside wistful nostalgia. Escapism too. As old certainties dissolve, strange new forms begin to emerge. The atmosphere feels charged—thick with tension, possibility, change.
Everyone agrees New York is hot this summer—oppressively so—until, suddenly, there’s a breeze, a clear sky, and you exhale. Let’s go for a walk. How much of what is seen is real? How much is perception? How much is projection? Hard to say. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s all part of the picture.
Here’s our weekly interview with the street, this week including Couch, D30, Dopamine, Homesick, Jappy Agoncillo, Kam S. Art, KEG, Nekst (tribute), RatchiNYC, Sefu, SMLZ, Sower Kerd, Wild West, and Zoot.
Street art reflects the aspirations, connections, and conflicts of society back to us—often unfiltered and always direct. That’s the case with “No Pain, No Flowers,” a striking new installation by Italian artist Bifido, created for the MIAU Fanzara festival in Spain. The wheatpasted photo-portrait features a teenage girl with facial piercings, caught in a moment that feels emotionally raw and universally familiar. She’s defiant yet fragile, bright but uncertain—a portrait of adolescence that hits with clarity, and rings true.
Known for his emotionally resonant paste-ups, Bifido has appeared on Brooklyn Street Art numerous times over the years. Based in Naples, he is celebrated for using photography to explore youth, vulnerability, and psychological tension. Children and teenagers are his recurring subjects, and his work often channels a personal, autobiographical undercurrent: “I am drawn to the anxieties, melancholy, expectations, fragilities, and turmoil of that age in relation to society and its absurd rules.”
MIAU Fanzara, held annually in a small village of about 250 residents, has become a rare model for community-centered urban art. With no corporate sponsorship and no censorship, artists are hosted by local families, creating a powerful sense of shared experience. As Bifido puts it, “It’s a place where urban art truly connects with the local fabric.” With no brand managers or gatekeeping curators calling the shots, the lineup hits closer to the kind of unfiltered street art you see in the wild.
“I am drawn to the anxieties, melancholy, expectations, fragilities, and turmoil of that age in relation to society and its absurd rules.”
When confronted with this larger-than-life face on the street, it’s clear that the mural draws its power from Bifido’s unwavering authenticity. This is not a retouched Photoshopped or AI-generated confection. You’ve met this person in your life, at your school, or in your living room at home. Additionally, the artist isn’t speaking from a distant, sociological standpoint only – he is channeling lived experience. In the context of the festival, Bifido’s autobiographical approach meshes with the open, authentic environment of Fanzara. The portrait’s model might be a specific girl, but in a sense, she is every young person (and the young version of each of us). By placing her image in the streets, Bifido turns the town into a gallery of real life – precisely the kind of integration of art and daily experience that MIAU Fanzara champions.
This new piece lives on Calle Purísima, suddenly appearing among the winding streets of Fanzara, now home to more than 100 murals from artists across the globe. In this intimate setting, Bifido’s portrait blooms not just as a visual artwork, but as a symbol of resilience. The title “No Pain, No Flowers” suggests a hard truth: beauty often comes from struggle. Yes, darling. Bring me my flowers.
If you know Shepard Fairey, then you already know: he’s never been one to sit back and let the powers that be go unchecked, from his own plugged-in and purposeful wiseguy perspective. From Andre the Giant Has a Posse wheatpastes in the ’90s to “Hope” posters on campaign walls, his work straddles the intersections of street art, punk defiance, political critique, and populist propaganda with a purpose. He’s a true lifer—rooted in skate culture, DIY ethos, anti-authoritarian graphics, and a conviction that art can and should speak truth to power.
In this new poster campaign, DEI-TY, Shepard zeroes in on a cultural moment when long-standing efforts to make society more inclusive are being flipped upside down by those seeking to divide and conquer. Always direct, yet heavy with symbolism and art/design history, the new poster artwork pulls from Orwellian surveillance aesthetics and throws an unmistakable orange glow over its intended subject. Yes, it’s Trump—but it’s also a larger warning learned from our human history to beware of personality cults, shallow populism, and manufactured outrage.
What follows is a wide-ranging interview that captures Fairey’s frustration, clarity, and urgency—served up with the kind of seasoned insight that comes from decades of navigating art, activism, and political absurdity. Now you’ll see a sharpness in his tone that speaks to the times: an artist who considers the stakes clearly and isn’t mincing words. If you’ve followed his career, you’ll recognize the heat generated by his signature mix of bold graphics and civic fire. If you’re new to it, welcome to the resistance—art’s not dead, and Fairey’s not done.
At the end of the article, you’ll find a selection of previous works that speak to the arc of Shepard’s creative and cultural engagement. Youcan also download the new DEI-TY poster for free, to print, paste, share, and use however you see fit. Once again Fairey demonstrates that in the face of rising intolerance and authoritarian power plays, silence is complicity—and art is one hell of a megaphone.
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BSA: Your poster flips the acronym DEI from a framework for equity into a confrontation with authoritarian ego. In a list of topics to address, what gave you the spark for this specific artwork?
Shepard Fairey: Of course, the verbal assault on the DEI programs at colleges and corporations infuriated me, but it became something more serious when Trump began to rescind funding to colleges and deny contracts to companies with DEI programs. I think Trump attacks DEI because he associates it with “woke” people who don’t support him. The bottom line is that Trump rewards those who stroke his ego and punishes those who don’t. Having someone that shallow and petty influence policies that impact millions is incredibly dangerous. In my original post, I laid out the definitions of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion because they are concepts that are pretty hard for a rational, fair-minded person to disagree with. Here they are again:
Diversity: the condition of having or being composed of differing elements: variety.
Equity: the quality of being fair and impartial.
Inclusion: the act or practice of including people who have historically been excluded (often because of their race, gender, sexuality, or disability).
BSA: Many times, you have critiqued cults of personality and authoritarianism with your work. In DEI-TY, the term “self-proclaimed deity” seems aimed squarely at that. Is it the figure or the ideology that folks have beef with?
Shepard Fairey: Both. I’ve described Trump, the specific “self-proclaimed deity” referred to in the print, as the festering zit that is the hideous manifestation of the underlying bacteria. The analogy isn’t entirely accurate, though, because in Trump’s case, his influence makes the bacteria even more toxic. It’s a brutal cycle. Trump encourages his followers to scapegoat the vulnerable, vocalize and act on their worst prejudices, and then he feels emboldened to behave like a dictator and double down on the most inflammatory rhetoric and cruel policies. This is a cycle and culture that erodes civility and democracy.
BSA: You’re offering these prints as free downloads, which suggests a sense of urgency and mass mobilization. Do you see DEI-TY as part of a larger visual resistance? How do you hope people will use it?
Shepard Fairey: I always want people to mobilize. I use my art to inspire people to care, because they won’t act if they don’t care. Some of my pieces, such as DEI-TY, can also serve as tools to convey an idea… tools I’d like anyone to be able to use if they are inspired. Visibility for a counter-narrative is essential to mobilizing people and shifting culture.
BSA: How do people navigate the increasing weaponization of terms like “DEI” in political and media discourse? Do you see this poster as an intervention in a culture war? As an aside, how much of this is a genuine concern to average people, and how much is ginned up to get us to fight with each other?
Shepard Fairey: DEI should be unassailable as an idea. Somehow, Trump has turned people against bedrock principles of American philosophy like diversity, equity, and inclusion, which should be universal, while normalizing lying, scapegoating, and undermining democracy, all of which should be universally unacceptable. Yes, the culture war is his aim, and the attacks on DEI don’t impact everyone directly, but I’m a believer in the concept that injustice anywhere threatens justice everywhere.
BSA: This new imagery echoes some of your earlier pieces that blend Orwellian surveillance aesthetics with activist messaging. What’s different about DEI-TY?
Shepard Fairey: You’re right about the Orwellian aesthetic. Trump is a fascist and a menace. He doesn’t genuinely believe in freedom, except for the freedom to be a dictator. He is very Big Brother-esque in his approach to purging dissenters from government and education. The main difference is that this print uses orange (for obvious reasons) and this print addresses general principles AND specific villains. I’d love for 1984 to be irrelevant, but unfortunately, it might be more relevant in this moment than ever before in U.S. history.
SHEPARD IS OFFERING THESE TWO NEW POSTERS ABOVE FOR FREE. CLICK HERE FOR A FREE DOWNLOAD
Following are a few from the vault from Fairey that run parallel in political, social, and stylistic spirit.
Statement from Shepard Fairey for the release of the new poster:
“Please read the words DIVERSITY, EQUITY, and INCLUSION and think deeply about their meaning – individually and collectively.
Diversity: the condition of having or being composed of differing elements: variety.
Equity: the quality of being fair and impartial.
Inclusion: the act or practice of including people who have historically been excluded (often because of their race, gender, sexuality, or disability).
DEl is meant only to enhance the priority of our institutions and workplaces to provide equal opportunity to the many groups that make up our beautifully diverse nation.
These formerly unassailable ideas have been aspirationally woven into our nation’s entire history, even if our idea of who is equal has thankfully evolved to include more than just white men.
From the Declaration of Independence to the 14th Amendment granting equal protection for all citizens, to the 15th Amendment granting Black men the right to vote, to the
19th Amendment granting women the right to vote, to the Civil Rights Act outlawing discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, or national origin, we have moved toward a more fair and less discriminatory society. The symbolism of the Statue of Liberty as a welcoming beacon to those fleeing forms of discrimination to find refuge in the melting pot of the US is a cornerstone of the American story. The current attack on DEl is nothing less than a betrayal of American values and aspirations. The attack on DEl is very literally a Republican policy of discriminating against those who oppose discrimination in their businesses and organizations.
When have racism, sexism, homophobia, or the like been okay in plain sight from our leadership, much less turned into law that punishes those trying to provide equality? I feel like I’m in a dystopian mirror world. Terrifyingly, this is here and now, and catalyzed mainly by one power-hungry narcissist who is a deranged, egomaniacal, insecure, tyrannical, yapster. If you oppose the mean-spirited embrace of discrimination like I do, please use every tool at your disposal to push back, especially by voting in EVERY election, including the midterms. We have power in numbers if we use it!”
BROOKLYN STREET ART LOVES YOU MORE EVERY DAY
