This piece is a visual expression of the small subculture I experienced in a specific place and time, when I was around 14, living on the streets in Bellingham, WA. A bunch of us kids stayed in an abandoned house on Iron Street. Rumor had it that the house had spent seven or so years with a continuous and revolving occupancy of transients, punk rockers and whoever happened to be passing through town. We called it the Iron Street Squat. A lot of us kids would pass the time drinking 40's of Old E, sewing patches onto our clothes with dental floss and practicing graffiti in sketch books and on the walls of the building.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Iron Street Memories
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