If you've ever been to Paris, you've probably noticed the small pixelated art pieces that are scattered all around the city on buildings and various other hard surfaces.

Or maybe you haven't seen or noticed them in Paris, but you've seen similarly pixelated mosaics in one of the other 79 cities around the world where they can be found.

Or maybe you have no idea what I'm talking about right now. Huh? Here's an example from Bolivia (click here if you can't see the embedded post below):

These pixelated urban art pieces are the work of French artist Invader. Modeled after 8-bit video games from the 1970s and 1980s, Invader has been installing these mosaics since 1998 as part of his broader "Space Invaders" project. The first one was installed in Paris.

No two pieces are alike and they're all made out of ceramic tiles so that they last. Invader also meticulously researches and then records each install location. He is basically trying to take over the world with his "invasions". As of today, there are 4056 invaders in 80 cities.

Here's a map. Sadly there are none in Toronto.

The goal of the project is to liberate art from what Invader calls "its usual alienators", that being museums and other institutions. It is about bringing art out and into the public realm so that everyone can enjoy it. And this is precisely what makes his mosaics so wonderful -- it is their playful integration into the urban landscape.

But these aren't exactly sanctioned pieces of art. If he started out by asking, the answer probably would have been no.

Invader thinks of himself as a kind of hacker of public realms. He keeps his identity concealed. He installs these mosaics during the night (from what I have read). And sometimes he gets in a lot of trouble.

Sometimes they also get removed by the building owner, though at this point his mosaics are pretty well known, so I can't imagine many owners not wanting to be "invaded."

But let me ask all of you this: If you owned a building in a major city and woke up tomorrow morning to a Space Invader on the front of it, would you celebrate it, apathetically leave it, or would you remove it immediately?

I have been in a few of Frank Lloyd Wright’s houses and in every case it turned out like this:

The Prairie School (of architecture), for which Wright was a pioneer, was all about horizontality. That typically meant flat roofs, deep overhangs and, in the case of Wright’s work, exceptionally low ceiling heights.

I’m about 6’3”. Many of his clear heights were less than 7’ and I believe his doorways were often 6’2”. This clearly doesn’t work for me, but it mattered for what Wright was trying to do. And I don’t think he was the type to worry about small matters like the comfort of tall people.

The above photos were taken at Taliesin West in Scottsdale, Arizona. Wright bought the land (495 acres) in 1937, and turned it into both his winter home and a teaching studio.

Apparently Wright paid $3.50 per acre at the time, which feels like a pretty good deal to me. It shows you the power of just buying and holding things over long periods of time.

Today, Taliesin West is the home base of Wright’s foundation and also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I’m glad I was able to finally visit it after reading about it for so many years in architecture school.

Toronto's Bata Shoe Museum has an exhibition on right now that is all about sneakers. It's called Future Now: Virtual Sneakers to Cutting-Edge Kicks. I haven't been to it yet, but it's on the list. Because this is interesting to me for a few reasons.

One, shoes are important and, as a general rule, I always wear them when I leave the house. Though there may have been some exceptions to this general rule.

Two, sneakers are high fashion. Just look at everyone walking around Paris.

And three, sneakers are such a great example of a clothing device that went from utility (we need to protect our feet) to fashion (we all have a desire to express our unique identities) to art collectible (yes, lots of people buy shoes that they never actually wear).

So if you're looking at stuff like NFTs and digital fashion and scratching your head as to why they have any value, sneakers are probably a good place to look to help you understand why many of us seem to have a need to collect things that help us define our sense of self.

This is, of course, one of the reasons why Nike bought a digital shoe company.

I suspect that the exhibition will be at least partially about this and at least partially about really cool 3D-printed shoes.

If you've ever been to Paris, you've probably noticed the small pixelated art pieces that are scattered all around the city on buildings and various other hard surfaces.

Or maybe you haven't seen or noticed them in Paris, but you've seen similarly pixelated mosaics in one of the other 79 cities around the world where they can be found.

Or maybe you have no idea what I'm talking about right now. Huh? Here's an example from Bolivia (click here if you can't see the embedded post below):

These pixelated urban art pieces are the work of French artist Invader. Modeled after 8-bit video games from the 1970s and 1980s, Invader has been installing these mosaics since 1998 as part of his broader "Space Invaders" project. The first one was installed in Paris.

No two pieces are alike and they're all made out of ceramic tiles so that they last. Invader also meticulously researches and then records each install location. He is basically trying to take over the world with his "invasions". As of today, there are 4056 invaders in 80 cities.

Here's a map. Sadly there are none in Toronto.

The goal of the project is to liberate art from what Invader calls "its usual alienators", that being museums and other institutions. It is about bringing art out and into the public realm so that everyone can enjoy it. And this is precisely what makes his mosaics so wonderful -- it is their playful integration into the urban landscape.

But these aren't exactly sanctioned pieces of art. If he started out by asking, the answer probably would have been no.

Invader thinks of himself as a kind of hacker of public realms. He keeps his identity concealed. He installs these mosaics during the night (from what I have read). And sometimes he gets in a lot of trouble.

Sometimes they also get removed by the building owner, though at this point his mosaics are pretty well known, so I can't imagine many owners not wanting to be "invaded."

But let me ask all of you this: If you owned a building in a major city and woke up tomorrow morning to a Space Invader on the front of it, would you celebrate it, apathetically leave it, or would you remove it immediately?

I have been in a few of Frank Lloyd Wright’s houses and in every case it turned out like this:

The Prairie School (of architecture), for which Wright was a pioneer, was all about horizontality. That typically meant flat roofs, deep overhangs and, in the case of Wright’s work, exceptionally low ceiling heights.

I’m about 6’3”. Many of his clear heights were less than 7’ and I believe his doorways were often 6’2”. This clearly doesn’t work for me, but it mattered for what Wright was trying to do. And I don’t think he was the type to worry about small matters like the comfort of tall people.

The above photos were taken at Taliesin West in Scottsdale, Arizona. Wright bought the land (495 acres) in 1937, and turned it into both his winter home and a teaching studio.

Apparently Wright paid $3.50 per acre at the time, which feels like a pretty good deal to me. It shows you the power of just buying and holding things over long periods of time.

Today, Taliesin West is the home base of Wright’s foundation and also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I’m glad I was able to finally visit it after reading about it for so many years in architecture school.

Toronto's Bata Shoe Museum has an exhibition on right now that is all about sneakers. It's called Future Now: Virtual Sneakers to Cutting-Edge Kicks. I haven't been to it yet, but it's on the list. Because this is interesting to me for a few reasons.

One, shoes are important and, as a general rule, I always wear them when I leave the house. Though there may have been some exceptions to this general rule.

Two, sneakers are high fashion. Just look at everyone walking around Paris.

And three, sneakers are such a great example of a clothing device that went from utility (we need to protect our feet) to fashion (we all have a desire to express our unique identities) to art collectible (yes, lots of people buy shoes that they never actually wear).

So if you're looking at stuff like NFTs and digital fashion and scratching your head as to why they have any value, sneakers are probably a good place to look to help you understand why many of us seem to have a need to collect things that help us define our sense of self.

This is, of course, one of the reasons why Nike bought a digital shoe company.

I suspect that the exhibition will be at least partially about this and at least partially about really cool 3D-printed shoes.