Bushwick Raw Postcard

Bushwick is raw, and this design says it with paint on its hands. Bushwick is the Brooklyn neighborhood where New York City keeps its wet paint: warehouse murals that change monthly, studios above bodegas, the whole borough of Brooklyn watching Bushwick invent its next version out loud. This design is for the person in Bushwick with paint under their fingernails and a show opening on Thursday. In NYC, Bushwick is the borough of Brooklyn's open sketchbook: roll-down gates that are actually galleries, pizza windows at 1am, art first and then breathing. This design should look like it was rolled onto a warehouse door at dawn and is still drying. The lettering should be raw and loud, thick paint-roller strokes over ink, dripping slightly on purpose. NYC keeps trying to finish this neighborhood and Bushwick keeps repainting over the ending. This is a Brooklyn design with primer in its hair. The palette is Bushwick at golden hour: brick, spray-can cyan, spray-can magenta, warehouse gray. Supporting graphics carry the language of Bushwick: a mural wall mid-paint, a spray can, a shopping cart full of canvases, a pizza window, a roll-down gate half down. In New York City, neighborhoods get polished; Bushwick asks for another coat. This design is for the painter, the screen-print shop, the kid shooting film on the L train, everyone in New York City who makes things with their hands and calls it a life plan. Bushwick is not finished. Bushwick is the point.