Artists are my favorite group of people. As a writer and photographer I’m lucky to come in contact with some very talented artists and each one of them opens my eyes a little bit more. I hope to one day have 20/20 vision thanks to these wonderful people.

Today, on J. Dilla’s birthday, as I’m watching a documentary about Jean Michel Basquiat, I’m reminded of an experience that reminds me why I love art.

I’ve lived in many cities from San Diego to Sevilla, and one thing remains constant: the language of art. So now I reside in Hollywood. Los Angeles is the biggest and loneliest city you will ever visit, but the other day my world got a little bit smaller.

I was walking down the street to meet up with a friend while she waited to audition for a commercial. As I was walking down the street, I saw something most people wouldn’t have noticed. It was an address sticker for packages at the post office. On this sticker was a colorful, friendly looking monster. Like I said, to most people this may just have been a sticker with a goofy figure haphazardly slapped on the pole, but to me it was a reminder of the smallness of the world thanks to art.

When I lived in Riverside, a classmate of mine used to draw his series of monsters on these stickers, something I hadn’t seen before. He made a point to put these on everything he could so everyone could see his art.

So here I was, walking dow Formosa and Santa Monica when the monster jumped out at me and reminded me of the power of art and how a simple stolen USPS sticker can make you feel that much closer to everyone in the world.


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