Graffiti Artist

I am now a graffiti artist. It just sort of happened. I fell into it, one could say. I was in the right place at the right time (under an abandoned bridge with a fresh can of Krylon paint in my hand). Opportunity knocked and I had just ordered a pizza so I answered. Otherwise that door would have remained both shut and locked up tight because I fear society as a whole.

Oh, so right. I am now a “tagger”. There is nothing else in this world like it. The freedom I am afforded by this new vocation is indescribable. And it is awesome. When I see a clean cinder block wall or unadorned surface of any sort, I am in heaven. Cloud nine. Nirvana if you are down with the Buddha. What I am getting at is that spray painting on flat objects feels good to me.

What is the most difficult aspect of making making my living via an artform which involves both brick walls and a healthy distaste for the law? That would be the loneliness. And the long hours. I cannot decide. Also, there is no pay, but I have become hyper aware of my city’s prime dumpster locations, and the value of that cannot be discounted.

At first I was all gung ho about my graffiti work. In my naïveté, I used my full legal name for my signature. This is not a wise course of action, it turns out. Also, do not print and distribute "graffiti artist" business cards with your contact info. Even if you create them online from your local library, using a reputable and seemingly-anonymous digital service provider, the purchase can still be traced back to you. Learn from my errors.

But despite my early travails, I have still managed to sew up most of the available street art needs of my community. It is not difficult when you work under cover of night and possess no moral qualms about covering a building owner’s property with the stylized image of a bootylicious babe. I have even come up with a new term for what I do, since I am so far elevated above my competition: “spritzy iconographer”. I am still toying with it.

I am not one to rest upon my laurels. In fact, just last weekend I branched out. I went beyond my comfort zone and tried out a new "canvas" if you will. This upscale town was mine for the taking. I merely had to purchase an industrial quantity of primer and paint over all of the town’s existing graffiti to make room for my own illustrations. Though I did accidentally remove some city-approved murals due to carelessness. Mistakes have been made.

It is not difficult for me to envision this whole enterprise mushrooming into a hugely popular mid-life career pivot. I will be the envy of my peers. A banquet will be held in my honor, with me as both the host and the guest speaker. And maybe the chef as well. I do like to dabble in the kitchen.

And eventually, once the public's desire for my visual lexicon has reached maximum levels, a licensing deal will appear, enabling me to take on my truest calling: farming.