I have been photographing street art since I was a teenager. While riding the El in Chicago I would stare out the window and watch the art unfold along cemetery walls, through tunnels, up on top of super high buildings. I fell in love with the idea of spray paint and public expression - the inherent law-breaking nature of street art also appealed to my rebellious teenage self.
My documentation started with my friend David.
I would go with him sometimes when he would go tagging on the bridges and underpasses in Chicago suburbs.
My friend Rachel had a basement where we could paint and repaint the walls. It was here that I first held a can of spray paint and failed miserably at making definable shapes.
It didn't take me long to put down the paint can permanently and hold a little more firmly to my camera. I realized that my strength is in framing, memorializing, and relentlessly watching my environment.
One of the greatest places for street art photography is in my hometown, Chicago, in the Pilsen neighborhood.
I always admired the honesty of the Pilsen street art, like this one that shows the range of family relationships from love and companionship to the family as a prison. I love how free form art tells stories of its community, its people.
I have photographed street art in travels around the world. From Dublin, Ireland
to Mazatlan, Mexico
to Islamic Cairo, Egypt
and of course my home of now eight years, Atlanta.
The first time I ever saw a Blah Girl in Atlanta was April, 2007. I was driving south on Boulevard passing the Fulton Cotton Mill on the left and Oakland Cemetery on the right when I saw her.
I loved her from the first moment. I loved how purely joyful she looked, the simplicity of her form and the choice of pink as her color. I loved the hearts that flew freely from her body. She made me smile just by existing. I grabbed my always-toted camera out of my purse and snapped a quick shot.
From that point forward, I started watching for her. It amazed me how without even trying, I would wind up in places where she was- whether we were searching for a new place for my friend to rent or out drinking at a bar. The Blah Girl became an auspicious sign.
She is fleeting though- such is the nature of street art. I was sad when that first Girl disappeared by way of white paint. But just a few months later, there she was again.
I have seen her in curls and flowers, bikinis and topless, on trucks and in bathroom stalls, in blue, green, red, pink and black. I want to honor her and her creator by archiving her existence in our lovely city of Atlanta.
I originally posted the photos at my personal blog,
Ashes and Glass. Recently I decided she deserved her own site to stretch her cute little arms and settle in for awhile.
So here we are at our new home on blogger and there's no place like home!
I have posted some answers to
frequently asked questions. Come back and visit for new Blah Girl pics and let me know if you come across any of your own. You can email me at
sara dot totonchi at gmail dot com and give me a location or send me pictures you take yourself. Pictures taken by people other than me get the honorary
Friends of Blah Girl tag.
Blah blah, hearts, love, kisses, spray paint.
