Street art surrounds us. Most pedestrian-minded pedestrians just walk by it without noticing. A stroll through Nolita, or the LES, or any neighborhood rooted in creativity, offers more art than any museum. It’s seen as graffiti, or stickers, or lamppost signs. It adorns the concrete and the tar, or appears as a pile of twisted umbrellas after a storm. It’s a Jim Joe on a discarded refrigerator door, or a commissioned work on the side of a boutique hotel. It makes us laugh, think, believe in love. Believe in the freedom of our minds, of our lives. It can scare us, or shock us—or even revolt us—and it appears below us, and way above us. Some of it is great and some not so, but then who is to judge? In my Wonderbread years, I watched Haring, Basquiat, and so many others use the street or the subway as their canvas, or sell their canvases on the street. If you had the right kind of eyes, you would know that most of the work could have been bought for peanuts or cheeseburgers. Art is a business that cuts out Monday morning quarterbacks. You are right when you buy a piece for chump change and in a few years or a decade it’s worth a fortune. Most of us are just chumps, walking by the starving artist who is often willing to sell his soul, his life blood, his work, just to survive and live as an artist. Maybe sales don’t validate the art, but Andy wouldn’t have been happy, or able to produce the volume of work he created, on the unnoticed Van Gogh’s income. Money for your work is absolutely a vindication, a justification, and a reason to be cheerful. Brian is getting cheerful.

Brian Ermanski peddled his art on the corner of Prince and Elizabeth for years. Then they put up a building and a street level store, and they told him to scram. I never see anybody in that store, but everybody in the hood stopped by to say hey to Brian. Maybe it’s a coincidence, or maybe it’s not. Understanding how to do things in neighborhoods where the inhabitants behave and talk to each other like neighbors helps you survive. Places that don’t try to fit in are often pushed out. To my dogs, he was Uncle Brian, a regular stop between hydrants and other hounds. To half of the dreamy gals in the hood, he was a dreamboat, the handsome lad with painted pants and a beat up beat box. For a while he wore a top hat, but then he got slick. He played soccer, sometimes showing those in the know that he knew something about the game. He is well read and can converse with the best of them—the celebrities, the street corner philosophers, and the rest of the smart set that calls Nolita home. He’d be called the Prince of Prince Street, but I think that title belongs to Vinny Vella, so Brian’s the Prince of Elizabeth Street. There’s a short film by Paul Stone that’s all about him, and it’s called just that. Brian Ermanski dances with the hotties at Kenmare and other like-minded places. He is a gentleman with youth, smarts, looks, a starving artist rap, and growing legitimate artist credentials. He is well liked, and now he is getting attention. His work is starting to sell for real money. Time will tell where all of this will lead, but in the short term I will check out the short film about The Prince of Elizabeth Street, which will arrive at the end of August.

The film premiers today at the Los Angeles International Short Film Festival. I talked to Brian last night, and we e-mailed each other and chatted via facebook as well. He was in Mexico City, delivering art to a patron. It was the first time he had been to Mexico City, and today is the first time he will be in L.A. He’s a bona fide jetsetter.

So what’s it going to be—movie star or artist? Or both? I always wanted to be a movie star since I was a child but I thought that it would be more of a challenge to make it as an artist and experience the lows and highs that came with it. Let's just say the last 11 years in Manhattan were amazing practice for acting because the amount of experiences I encountered truly tested my will to keep going in a positive and creative way. I never thought the lows would be so abysmal though, nearly 6 feet under and having to sell off every possession except my paintings outside my apartment on Elizabeth Street just to get by. The highs were so spectacular and sometimes unbelievable including being proposed to by a Victoria’s Secret model, painting two 70 x 12 foot walls at the opening of Good Units for Interview Magazine's 40th anniversary party, selling paintings to Sean Avery, Diane Warren, and Vito Schnabel. Each time having just ten dollars left to my name, and just living day to day happily as if it were my last because it could have been, a joie de vivre. Okay, the simple answer would have been both! Definitely! I desire to be the best at whatever I set my mind to.

You sold your paintings on Elizabeth and Prince right across from my house until they built that new building. You’re not there anymore is that the end of the hood ? Has it been gentrified or is there still hope? La Bohème by Charles Aznavour, which a French girl recently translated for me really hit home as far as the abandoned building on the corner of Prince and Elizabeth was concerned, where I had my real start painting every day and going after the American Dream hoping to one day buy the castle on the corner that they spent the last 3 years building for me. It is true, I am not painting there anymore. I have been busy working on commissions in a studio in Tribeca for the last 8 months. As far as the neighborhood is concerned it has been a little gentrified but the long time locals are the one who give it the most desirable quality including Gina and the kids on Spring, Vinny Vella, and especially you, who always passed on just enough knowledge to help any situation. There are so many artists still working and living in Nolita who are very successful and contributing to the neighborhood. I just felt like the last one who was about to get forgotten when the owner of Vince said I couldn't paint on Prince Street anymore. Is there hope? I always believe there is!

You are a character, a street artist, and a bon vivant. Tell me about the other characters of this fabled neighborhood. Here are so many more to mention that give Nolita such a great name. It is in the smiles, kind eyes, and open hearts of every neighbor that pass you by from the early mornings I used to walk or skateboard home from Bungalow 8 to the ones who would stop and talk when I was sitting on the corner painting and even the ones who tried to get the cops to let me go on the first day of spring 2005 when I painted the billboard white and wrote "Welcome to Nolita! The greatest little neighborhood." Even into the late evenings, the neighbors would let me play my boom box and finish up my paintings. The future of the neighborhood rests among the children who reside there among some of whom I allowed to paint on the canvases I brought out include Alex Goldberg at the start, Georgia, and the brothers Jackson and Nate who painted HOT when I was painting ICE.

You are out and about, and very much a player in the fast lane of hip clubs and parties. Where does the art begin? How much of it is driven by your persona? I never used to go out very much but after a bad break up years ago I started to broaden my horizon at night. I was soon among the most talented, creative people in the world and they took me in like a younger brother and let me BE, I was inspired. I have since taken great care to be more focused on my art for the last two years and go out a lot less and more opportunities are arising which I am always grateful for and deadlines are all being met. A lot of my early paintings are inspired by people I have come across, and are comic-like renditions. The stories behind them (the experiences) are at the root, including "Freemans Alley," "Nolita Vogue," and "Get off of My Cloud 9," my favorite, which is of Artist Alexandra Richards and her sister Theodora Richards, the coolest girl I have ever met! In the painting they are fighting for the black Orlov diamond with balloons on hopscotch clouds! The ICE series has many meanings but I am not going to share them all until my show at MILK gallery. The next series are screen prints, which Barrington Gallery of London has fully backed the production of. Exciting times on the road ahead!

You’re in Mexico City. Tell me what you are doing there. Can you believe it!? I am not on the benches outside Balthazar or walking the streets with my boom box!? I hate leaving Manhattan because it is my home but it is a pleasure being in Mexico City especially because I was able to paint a David Bowie album cover, Aladdin Sane 6 foot square to deliver to Juan Robles as a birthday present to himself, he deals in finance, is a big time art collector, and movie maker and his house is like a palace next to all of the embassies. I saw the pyramids today with a girl from Mexico City and I found two black diamond shapes made of obsidian. Black ICE, almost! Juan said he may put me in a soccer film which starts in two months! I need to get an agent in LA. Fingers crossed. I played soccer on the Sutton Fuller Hamlets everyday for 15 years and we played all over the US and Great Britain. If I get to play soccer on film all of my dreams will come true!

Next stop is L.A. for the film festival. Are you blowing up and what does it mean? Yes Steve, I leave later on today for the 14th annual Los Angeles International Short Film Festival which is to be held July 22nd to July 30th and Paul Stone's film "The Prince of Elizabeth Street" which I play the lead role in premiers at 10pm on Monday July 26th. It is a story of my alter ego, the will power of humankind and the search for meaning, truth and recognition. My other alter ego is BE radical but I tried killing that one off 3 years ago when I went. I have never been to LA and have an open mind about it and pretty much just want to sit by the pool at the Mondrian, play ping pong at SPIN there which I just missed the opening of last night, maybe paint outside the Laemmle Theatre a couple days and take in the sights, oh and try surfing! I have been painting 12-20 hours a day for the last 3 months and need a break and also an assistant when I get back to the city. Does it mean I am blowing up? Maybe just getting a little more recognition for the art I have created over the years rather than street photos of me looking like a bum when I couldn't paint due to chronic pain and numbness and shaking in my painting hand. What makes me happy at the end of the day is making the people happy and proud who believed in me and helped me along the way especially those who were first time art collectors after buying an Ermanski. What it means is that there is hope for a young artist who struggled without help beside amazing friends is getting the best opportunity to make a greater impact and potentially leave a lasting mark on culture by doing one of the things I love to do! It means that there is still hope for the next generation of artists starting out in New York to one day get recognized and make the best of their opportunities if they believe in themselves and their character traits are sound.

Tell me about your art—your influences and aspirations. My older art is again generally about day to day occurrences, people, places and things. What happens in my life, what I believe is happening around me and in total, a visual diary. I will soon start painting critiques on culture on a whole to hopefully broaden my own perspective and others by trying to point out flaws and beauty in society I have seen and hopefully create a greater consciousness of healthy well being through my art so people smile more, treat people with more respect, become more patient and kind and someday maybe everyone will realize that WE not just I, can create an amazing amount of positive energy and freedom through our enlightened thoughts that we will not fear anything because we will one day grab fear, hold it tight and let it go like a balloon in the sky and be free! My inspiration comes from all of the artists in every field imaginable that I have experienced in my 29 years in classes and museums, on the radio, magazines, newspapers, books, television and on film. The people on the streets in all the cities and towns I have ever visited have all given me a bit of inspiration and I want to thank you all for your gifts! I aspire to plant a flower and lay a stone (paint or act on film) everyday to one day have the most beautiful garden and live in my castle on the corner as the true Prince of Elizabeth Street! One day... Until then, "Today is the best day ever!

You were jetsetting to Mexico City last week, and today it’s L.A. Do you miss Nolita? Do you miss me? Yes I do miss you Mr. Lewis! I remember calling you that every day I saw you after you asked me to design the candy shop entrance to Rock Candy in 2005. You were the mentor any young man needs in New York and I was fortunate enough to have you across the street when I was painting and around the corner when not. I am and always will be so grateful for your sound advice and positive outlook on things. You made me laugh and cry at the same time! You are an amazing man and the coolest guy in New York! You are humble and kind, caring and full of knowledge, patient and respectable. You know how to live a life full of experiences and constantly move forward. Thank you for giving me your Yamaha guitar I still owe you a painting of it so that can collect dust. The best part was the Ramones pick given to you by Johnny Ramone or Joey? And passed on to me! I cherish it. What I miss most was back when most people passed me by you always made an effort to come across the street and ask "So what's up kid?" You would share your thoughts and advice, lend an ear and hear me out when times were tough and amazing and always were the kind of man I aspired to act like. Thank you Steve for always being there! Now I miss that corner more than ever! Good night Mr. Lewis! It is 3am or later here in Mexico and I must go to bed.