On my route to work every day I pass by fences, billboards, overpasses, etc. covered in graffiti. Some streaky letters, some enlarged bubble letters. Never readable. Never intended to be. Background displays to the West side of San Antonio. Always a semi-hazy separation from my life.
I slowly brake to a pause at the end of my straight waiting for traffic to pass so I can turn right when I notice it: my very own stop sign tagged with black spray paint. The street I've lived on my whole life in the suburban Northwest side of town with graffiti plastered across the red sign. I was angry. I was hurt. And I called the local non-emergency police to come have it removed as quickly as possible because I'll be damned if I let graffiti slither its way into my own personal intimate sphere of life. Harsh words? Perhaps. But just wait until you have something close and comfortable in your life disregarded and destroyed right in front of you.
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Graffiti/tagging is a topic that really interests me. I came across an article by Alex Boyd, "In Defense of Graffiti," that challenged me to think about the social, economic, and rhetorical implications of graffiti, and the politics of representation. http://www141.pair.com/gmurray/bookninjabackup/essays/sept_2003/graffiti.htm There's also a great documentary called "Bomb It" that traces a global history of graffiti and wall art, it blew me away. No pun intended. :)
ReplyDeleteanyway, thanks for the regular posts, by the way--they're very engaging!