Been enjoying the graffiti in the streetcar tunnels like no tomorrow. You barely see it as you whizz by, and even when you’re stopped on a not infrequent MUNI delay you can’t understand what the letters say. Except someone understands them. It’s a whole network of communication that I’ve grown slightly obsessed with, much the way that the bike messenger subculture obsesses me. I like this subterranean world under my feet. And how, how, how do they get so far into the tunnel to paint these elaborate cave scratchings?
It’s not the haphazard stuff you see on bridges and such either. These are incredibly detailed, colorful paintings, complete with pictures of hook-nosed faces and hooded figures next to the letters. And when you slide by in your brightly lit bubble it looks like these figures in the pictures are the artists.
I scowled through a confusing math class, I went out to breakfast, I bought some Illy coffee for my freezer, I bought a garbage can. Life, you have stayed me in a happy hour.
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