Waxing coffee cakes on that wall off Melrose & Heliotrope
I had to miss work for a few days leading up to the weekend (to get more minor surgery). This left me on my side, mostly. Luckily my incredibly comfy couch is perfect for laptop activity, so I bought a ton of new music (at least new to me) to keep me from going bonkers. I had been getting really into Mew lately, so I used Last FM to find some like-minded artists. As a result of surfing some of my musical neighbors' set lists I also came across a great Brazilian Crunk/Mash band called Bonde Do Role. This is ironic as I attended a Brazilian Street Art group show the previous weekend where I bought 8 pieces from the show. So my interests sway back and forth between Os Brasileros and the Danish (or Danes).
When I felt up to it on Sunday (*after four days indoors and lying on my side), I drove over to Western to get some good papusas and look a the great Murals in Thai Town while I ate them; maybe washing them down with a nice agua fresca. On the way over I saw a crew doing a new wall on Melrose near Heliotrope (almost right in back of the Bike Kitchen). I've always had a healthy respect for graffiti muralists and I wasn't in a hurry to get back home, so I pulled over and kicked back and watched them for a while. After about forty five minutes I decided to hit the corner store and bought a six pack. I walked back over and continued into the vacant lot and set the brown paper bag down next to the latter one of the guys had been using. I then walked back over toward my car. As I did, one of the cats in the crew saw that I was leaving and called out to me, thanking me for the brew (these guys were all clearly in their twenties or better). I waved an acceptance of gratitude and I as I put my key into my car lock, another artist asked me if I was a writer. I knew what he meant, and I turned and walked back over.
I told him that I was much more of a tagger in my day than a writer but I had left my mark. When asked I let the beans spill that my tag was "Panik", but not the NYC "Panic". Back in the day I had hit the Angeline billboard on sunset with "Got Milk" four times in a month and left my signature in the corner -in Jungle Green, no less. One of the guys remembered that little stunt, and they all laughed. This was back when I did the radio show with Rachtman, and there had been a little war between our show and the famous hag whose billboards used to be all over town. I had hit the one on Sunset and Highland and it had made the paper, and became the talk of the town for a while.
After laughing about my little reminiscence, they invited me to hit their wall in a little black spot with some white cannister acrylic, which I did.
I was sweatin' it, too. I haven't touched a spraycan in fifteen or so years. As a matter of fact, when I brought my Panik tag to Chicago, I used paint pens and markers a couple of times but primarily used stickers, which my Filipino friends and I had all switched to back in '93. I was never a bomber, anyways. I always picked specific (and deserving) targets.
So I asked one of the guys if he had any skinnies with him, because I wanted to do something really small, so as not to mess up the dudes' background. He looked at me quizzically and handed me a flare tip instead, so I just did my thing really quick in three motions with the dot above the eye an extra.
They just sort of smiled and a gave me a series of really complicated handshakes (I fucking hate those -everybody has a different one and I feel totally awkward). One dude said, "Shit that's fucking old-school Chaka fucking writing, dude."
I smiled. I actually almost blushed. I knew he wasn't calling me a biter, he just didn't know what to make of this highly readable graffiti, but he was giving me fame props for real.
When I felt up to it on Sunday (*after four days indoors and lying on my side), I drove over to Western to get some good papusas and look a the great Murals in Thai Town while I ate them; maybe washing them down with a nice agua fresca. On the way over I saw a crew doing a new wall on Melrose near Heliotrope (almost right in back of the Bike Kitchen). I've always had a healthy respect for graffiti muralists and I wasn't in a hurry to get back home, so I pulled over and kicked back and watched them for a while. After about forty five minutes I decided to hit the corner store and bought a six pack. I walked back over and continued into the vacant lot and set the brown paper bag down next to the latter one of the guys had been using. I then walked back over toward my car. As I did, one of the cats in the crew saw that I was leaving and called out to me, thanking me for the brew (these guys were all clearly in their twenties or better). I waved an acceptance of gratitude and I as I put my key into my car lock, another artist asked me if I was a writer. I knew what he meant, and I turned and walked back over.
I told him that I was much more of a tagger in my day than a writer but I had left my mark. When asked I let the beans spill that my tag was "Panik", but not the NYC "Panic". Back in the day I had hit the Angeline billboard on sunset with "Got Milk" four times in a month and left my signature in the corner -in Jungle Green, no less. One of the guys remembered that little stunt, and they all laughed. This was back when I did the radio show with Rachtman, and there had been a little war between our show and the famous hag whose billboards used to be all over town. I had hit the one on Sunset and Highland and it had made the paper, and became the talk of the town for a while.
After laughing about my little reminiscence, they invited me to hit their wall in a little black spot with some white cannister acrylic, which I did.
I was sweatin' it, too. I haven't touched a spraycan in fifteen or so years. As a matter of fact, when I brought my Panik tag to Chicago, I used paint pens and markers a couple of times but primarily used stickers, which my Filipino friends and I had all switched to back in '93. I was never a bomber, anyways. I always picked specific (and deserving) targets.
So I asked one of the guys if he had any skinnies with him, because I wanted to do something really small, so as not to mess up the dudes' background. He looked at me quizzically and handed me a flare tip instead, so I just did my thing really quick in three motions with the dot above the eye an extra.
They just sort of smiled and a gave me a series of really complicated handshakes (I fucking hate those -everybody has a different one and I feel totally awkward). One dude said, "Shit that's fucking old-school Chaka fucking writing, dude."
I smiled. I actually almost blushed. I knew he wasn't calling me a biter, he just didn't know what to make of this highly readable graffiti, but he was giving me fame props for real.