To me, Drift lives in some parallel universe where he has keys to every door and no fear of standing on top of the NYC skyline.
Incredible taste and talent beyond my understanding.
Owning a piece from the No Trespassing series feels like someone went to the Moon and brought a piece of it back just for you.
This art hits home on so many levels. It’s New York. It’s incredible photography. It’s literally a trophy from the “crime scene.” I don’t think it gets much better than that.
Proud to acquire a piece from the series.
Hats off, my friend. You absolutely nailed it, @DrifterShoots. ❤️🔥
The “No Trespassing” Series officially goes on sale today.
For the past several years I have been collecting No Trespassing signs from different places I have photographed. That has now developed into a collection of 50 1/1 pieces printed on the found objects with a personalized handwritten narrative on the back of each piece as an artistic addition but also for provenance and authentication purposes.
I will be releasing the pieces five at a time from various locations with only the first five being released today. DM or visit my website to purchase!!!
The sun is setting and I am engulfed on every side by corporate windows where women in blazers and men in white shirts and ties are busy ending their days. I am watching them all from the crown copula of one of the most beautiful buildings I’ve ever seen. Security guards roam round’ concrete monoliths in an attempt to keep both them, their inhabitants and ultimately their owner’s investments safe.
Safety. What an interesting idea.
I stand to take photos, telling myself to be safe, quick, and not be seen, that is until I look behind me to see the very top of the building’s crown. The beck and call comes as it has a thousand time, ushering in that timeless question, do I want to be safe or do I want to be truthful?
Hand over hand with thousands of eyes around, I begin up with no guarantee the structure will hold me. Sweat soaked T-shirt with sirens fading in the distance, the world dissolves to nothing and it is me, the camera, the streets below and everything breathing together. I hold on with one hand, frame and snap with the other, electricity coursing through my veins as I am aware, somewhere, one of those men in shirt and tie is watching, his third coffee of the day about to slip out of his hand.
This is my world and that is his.
I slip out the way I came, down ladders and spiral staircases, radios buzzing somewhere below. I stop at the sound, blend quietly into the walls. I have spent so much time with these objects that I have begun to breathe with them. In a sense, I have become invisible inside of them, melting into metal, rebar and concrete as an apparatus.
The irony is, if you stay dangerous, that is, if you remain truthful, you will always be safe. Anything you give yourself too completely will ask you for worship, that is the offering up of your idea of yourself and safety for the reality of what those two things really are. Only those who go, know.
Every king shall be crowned.
(Helmsley Building)