Canheads, crackheads, rustheads, art for a pound and (more) MyDog Sighs and things caught on film down a typical East London street

Just found a video on Youtube, something from the start of the month, First Thursday and that in Rust We Trust MyDog Sighs and friends opening night when Los Dave bent some rusty wire and M-One painted a van or two.  That Rust show has been covered more than enough in previous blogs but this video did just go up on line,# and personally, I do like selling my pieces of art, painted on recycled Primark carrier bags, for a pound or so.

So whoever filmed the video has captured a slice or two of Vyner Street on First Thursday, the video may only mention Cultivate (and start off by coming in through our front door), there’s some good footage of our immediate neighbours as well though, including the opening at Wayward that night, where they has the SYLVIE TILLMANN photo show, Forty7 gallery where they were hosting a Thai group exhibition and House of Vostrovska where some of VALERA MARTYNCHIK’s drawings and sketches were on show.

Those Rust boys and girl certainly packed the gallery walls that night, and even though I do like a busy buzzing gallery, not sure I would have had quite that much work on the walls….

So the crackheads were on top form down the street last Friday morning, and they do keep their (always new) trainers so impressively clean and white while they drag themselves along the oil-strafed street to wait for the next whatever it is they’re always waiting for.  Their life obsessions would mostly appear to be scoring, shouting at each other, drinking as much cheap cider as they can get their hands on of a morning, their white trainers and trying to borrow your mobile phone if their man is more than a minute or two late (he is always late). Generally their arguments and aggressive tantrums are reserved for each other, oblivious to anyone or anything beside their immediate issue, a born again risen from the dead Jackson Pollock could be slinging yellow paint in the middle of the cobbled street and they’d walk right through it as they shouted at each other…

“Oi! You, where you goin’ wiv me bird’s money? You’ve nicked it again haven’t yer!”

“Nah, I’m just going to fackin’ score for ‘er you stupid fackin’ prat”

The  c’heads yell all this at each other in their customary very (very) loud alert-all-the-street, including the guy in uniform sitting in his police car, voices. Not the most subtle of re-ups if you know what I mean, Stringer Bell would not be impressed with operation…

“ere, there’s a fackin’ copper sittin’ over there watching, could you shout a little more ‘bout scoring for my bird please, I don’t fink everyone quite fackin’ heard!

ere Trace, has he nicked yer money?”

“na you stupid prat, he’s scoring for me ain’t he”  and by now the Hoxton hat-wear hipster of a film crew filming in the rain over at the Victory pub have been alerted by all the shouting and the yelling and the outbreaks of fists and..

“yer fackin c*nt, yer always nicking me bird’s money,”

“She may be yourfackin’ bird, but she’s my fackin sister and I’ll nick what ever I fackin’ want, this is family, you may be ‘er brother but yer not fackin’ family, nor will you ever be!”

DAVID AGENJO'S BEAUTIFUL PAINT, CURRENTTLY ON OUR LEASS CLUTTERED CULTIVATE WALLS

DAVID AGENJO’S BEAUTIFUL PAINT, CURRENTLY ON OUR LESS CLUTTERED CULTIVATE WALLS

So the film crew, by now. have brought their big fancy cameras and lights and hipster hats out of the pub and they’re filming the heads and their fight, meanwhile the police car is just parked there watching as the bother-sister-boyfriend combination turn their attention to the film crew…

“ere are you filming me an’ my fackin’bird?  This is fackin’ private!”

Kind of looks like the film crew are about to be physically confronted for sticking their lenses where they’re not really wanted, that or for wearing silly hipster hats and growing unimpressive beards in the wrong part of East Landen… The hats are saved by a black car casually cruising down the street and slowimg down to an almost stop, the crackheads all start jogging after it as it speeds up again and off around the corner they go, shouting at each other as they run in a stumbling drunken state back to where ever it is they go to do what ever they do with whatever they bought, meanwhile the film crew, the actors and the policeman watch on, didn’t we have the Olympics just over there a few weeks back?

And as quickly as that scene is all played gone, two girls walk by at each end of a rather impressive canvas. and on we go with another Friday morning down Vyner Street…

THE COLD LIGHT OF FRIDAY MORNING ON CULTIVATE CORNER

THE COLD LIGHT OF FRIDAY MORNING ON CULTIVATE CORNER

AND ON A LESS QUIET NIGHT ON OUR CORNER....

AND ON A LESS QUIET NIGHT ON OUR CORNER….

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