What I love about Mica’s work is the playful array of colourful animals—ordinarily bears and wolves—that stretch the length of walls in forward motion, sometimes looking back at you as if to say, ‘Come on, what are you waiting for?’
Along with the sense of momentum that brings Mica’s work to life, there is also an explosion of colour that cannot be contained, though it is not devoid of emotion.
Some of the animals stare directly at you with confronting vulnerability, others with a feeling of loss or even a glimmer of hope in their eyes. These creatures are speaking to you and you can’t help but stop, look, and want to communicate back. Only you don’t. You continue your journey, with the exception that you now have a smile on your face, and playful images that dance in your head and remain there for days.
After meeting Mica, I feel more and more that these creatures represent the many sides of her personality—a shyness that sits alongside her burning determination, and a creative urgency that ultimately propels her onto the next piece.
Her work, (at least in my eyes) is as complex as she is. It is a manifestation of the world that she already inhabits where there is beauty in chaos, and protection and comfort comes from the familiarity and convergence of like minds.
To find out more about Mica, have a listen to this short interview that I produced for Radio New Zealand National, where Mica explains why she’ll never call herself a graffiti artist, how memories from her childhood continue to make an appearance in her work, and making the transition from photography and fine art, to the city streets.
All images courtesy of Mica Still.