Sara and I sit on the front stoop of Amoeba. She smokes a cigarette. I’m keeping her company. Why? I dunno, in case she needs help, I guess. I don’t smoke. To be more accurate, I don’t smoke my own cigarettes. I’m content with the second-hand stuff. Unless someone gives me one, but even then I don’t smoke unless the woman offering me the fag is, say, Helen of Troy.
Anyway, we sit there and watch the traffic snarl for a while before raconteur, entrepreneur and flambeur Thierry walks by. He also happens to be cousin to French street artist Invader, the loss of whose installations around Los Angeles I’ve documented very well (and not without a fair bit of rancor.) He knows I’ve got that other site up and running, but I confess that I’m so discouraged by the work of the invader thief that I’ve all but abandoned it. He tells us that his cousin has pretty much given up, saying “He’s los Los Angeles.”
That’s depressing. But Thierry says he’s proposed that Invader take his art indoors, start invading indoor spaces where the art might not be as welcome, but might not be so easy to steal, either. I love the idea. Amoeba has one now, but it really needs another. (It used to have an invader out front a while ago, but Thierry tells us that it was ripped off mere minutes after they installed and photographed it.) Apparently, the artist needs some convincing, so we’ll just have to wait and see.
In related news, even if it hadn’t already been stolen, the invader that had been installed in the LACMA parking lot turns out to have been doomed anyway. Carolineoncrack reports about the LACMA Chalk-In held in honor of the doomed structure (and all its accompanying works of street-art.)
Finally, speaking of street art, I offer this final tangent, but the idea is so gag-inducing that I’m just gonna provide a link to the report at Gothamist and let you see for yourself.