One per cent of revenue, in perpetuity, to the cola-growing communities of Sierra Leone whose nut makes the drink possible.
An experiment in evocative typography, shape and colour that bombed commercially. What went horribly right, and wrong?
I first saw this place in a faded photo tacked to a wall in a kitchen in Palm Springs. It looked like a hallucination; what I found when I went there was even stranger.
Drawings made in passing — between trains, in cafés, on benches. Thirty years of being somewhere long enough to look properly.
Green plastic soldiers, subverted. Each figurine kneels, dances, plays, thinks. The pose is the argument.
