A NOTE FROM THE ARTIST

I was a known local graffiti artist. I did more pieces, burners, characters and murals locally than I can remember. As I grew older I came to realize that acrylics and oils arent spray paint cans, brushes aren’t fat caps and thin tips. A quiet art room isn’t a train yard, an overhead lamp isn’t a dimlit street light. The two can never compare in andrenaline, in the defining experience and/or the moment. Spray paint fumes was like the smell of roses to us, we loved the scent as we sprayed away our designs. Floral paints smelled like sweet candy and the pastels colors were amazing. We used WD40 spray caps for painting wide fill ins and our spray paint of choice was Krylon and Rustoleum.

Then there was the addictive rush of painting a subway car in a darkened yard or tunnel, the risk of getting arrested doing so was nerve wrecking. But to be honest, we did not care at all, because with big risks came big rewards. I remember the following day, how we would arise in the morning, get dressed and rush out the door. We would wait patiently on subway platforms with a disposable camera hand, waiting for the trains we painted on to come by. The thrill of catching our designs in the light was exhilarating, as it was too dark to see them at night.

At night, like shadows we would move effortlessly, knowing that no matter how silent we tried to be. We could not escape the sounds of spray cans rattling in our backpack within the evening. Oh the feeling of adventure cannot be put to words properly as we explored the underground nyc subway tunnels. The darkness, the smells, the black soot on your hands, clothes and in your nose from train brakes was crazy… Yet onwards you and your friends continued in the shadows dodging rats the size of cats, and staying clear of the work bums who would have called the cops on you.

We were truly shadows in the night, who were not afraid to go down into manhole covers, jump fences and/or creep up fire escapes and cranes all to leave our mark. As street artists, we always walked with a spray can, a marker, a book or stickers to slap on somewhere. I remember vividly the big fat drippy markers made out of school erasers and old deodorant roll ons, oh how magical they were. Each tag we left with them dripped black or white ink down surfaces. These tags were our trademark, our aliases, our cry to be noticed in a messed up world. Tags, burners, throwers and pieces were our claim to fame…

They label this vandalism, a crime, but to us it was art. Just a bunch of emotionally messed up kids who found a means to express themselves. Whether it was on paper, in a black book, a wall, the back of a denim jacket or a subway train. It was about getting your name everywhere, about trying to be relevant in a world that labeled us nobodies and irrelevant. Time moved on, I stopped defacing walls, trains and all else many decades ago. I took my art to a digital platform. Sure I will do a mural or canvas for money, but not for the rush anymore. For alas, these bones are too old, I can’t run fast anymore, can’t climb and don’t have the need or desire to do so.

Yes I was a vandal, a street artist, a local graphiti king in my own mind. Yes I went all city, but only with tags and throwies. Now looking back with a smile, I cannot forget the cool people I met and befriended along the way…. Some of which I am still friends with today, some I lost track of. Such as: Neo Nog, Sur167, Rec127, Miro Styles, Lie, Amer, Tee, Sag, Dash, Ghost and 2Bad to name a few.

Yes it was a crime…. But to us it way of life! I am sharing this now many decades later to educate people on why as a street artist I lived this life. I do not condone what I did back then, but I will say it was a moment in time that defined me. I do not nor will ever regret it for it made me the artist I am today.

“ZN One”, ”Child357” & “PhantomXtra”
NOG – XMEN – UA – TPA – POW – DESTINY – TDK – DRUG