Anyone can spot the art as they drive down the busy roads of urban Greensboro, almost unreadable twisted letters in garish colors.  They are just small smear of an artist’s colorful soul juxtaposed to the harshly linear form of the dull city landscape.  Most people would not consider what these brave souls do as art, despite the hard work and expression that goes into each coat of paint.  Over the past twenty years Graffiti has emerged as one of the fastest growing modern art forms to date and it has not shown any signs of slowing down.  Graffiti’s association with destruction has not stopped it from popping up in every major city in the United States or spreading to smaller cities such as Greensboro, North Carolina.  To really understand the appeal of such a dangerous and illegal art form one has to spend just a night with one of Greensboro’s young talents.

It was a mild night as the artist dubbed “Cosmic” cruised the Lee Street area of Greensboro for the opportune area to paint.  Graffiti artist’s names are their secondary identity.  It is their signature that represents their personal style.  

“Yeah man, I picked up ‘Cosmic’ not long after I got interested in bombing.  It’s like my tags are universal, they can be interpreted by anyone, anywhere.  No matter where you are in the cosmos my art means something, you know?  So therefore I’m a cosmic entity.”  He smiled from behind his black sunglasses.  Cosmic was dressed in mostly dark colors and wore black hoodie that provided cover for his head.  

The streets were empty that evening, there was not anyone around except for the occasional police cruiser or Cadillac.  Every now and then a pedestrian could be found wondering the side walk, huddled over or taking a sip from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag.  Despite being so close to the downtown area there was an almost palpable emptiness surrounding the area.  It was if everyone had boarded themselves inside, and was afraid to be outside at such a late time.  

“Around here is a good place to tag .  After about one o‘clock, the people who would snitch on someone bombing are inside.  You just have to watch out for the dealers and the cops.  The people that hate graffiti don’t care about this part of town either. There is a lot of abandoned buildings and run down places that nobody gives any attention to except when there’s graffiti on it.  I guess the places aren’t good enough for the rich people to fix but too good for some fresh paint.”  Cosmic pulled into  a 24 hour convenient store for a late night boost.  Getting back into the car with a bountiful supply of caffeine and sugar he took some time to explain his philosophies on Graffiti.

“People just don’t understand, you know?   They’re against Graffiti but they have never done it and they don’t know the people that do it.  Its not about vandalism its about making people see the things they don’t want to.  Its about opening up someone’s mind to something new.  If I can come out late at night, do something I love, and change people’s views then that is the biggest rush of all, you know?  So many people only see graffiti for the destruction and are opposed to it because they are told to by the law and its just sad.   But that’s why I do it, to make people see the world in a new way and to show them that they have the power to influence others too.”  Cosmic chugged an energy drink as he turned onto South Elm Eugene Street in hopes of finding that perfect spot to paint.  Soon after he became excited as he drove by an empty lot.  The side of a small one story building provided a wide blank wall, apparently perfect for Graffiti.  

“You can see it from the street real good, you know?  I’m gonna hit it.”  Cosmic parked about a block away.   “I park up here in case the cops show up, I can make a quick getaway.  Its easier to lose them on foot than it is in a car and they could get my tag number if I parked at the spot I’m tagging.”  Cosmic pulled a black backpack out of his trunk.  The metallic rattling of spray paint cans sounded from inside it.  He constantly looked over his shoulder as he walked down the sidewalk towards his destination.  

“I do get worried that some spots are being watched by the cops or that I might get mugged or run into some drug dealers but I try not to think too much about it.  If I get caught, then that’s what I get, its all part of being a Graff artist, you know?  Bombers know about Karma and we know the risks when we come out at night.  I try not to add to the danger by climbing up high to tag or coming out drunk.  Some Graff artists are just crazy man, they’ll make a stunt out of it and do some dumb shit. I’ve seen guys trying to get on top of buildings or climbing billboards just for a location.  I guess the difference between me and them is that I don’t go that far for the perfect spot.”  As he entered the empty lot, Cosmic looked around to make sure there were no obscured police vehicles parked nearby that he could not have seen when he drove by previously.  He pulled a his hood up around his head and slipped a painter’s mask over his face.  Cosmic took off his backpack and placed it on the ground.  Bending over he unzipped it and pulled out a pair of latex gloves.  Then he took out a few cans of paint and placed them at his feet.  

“The thing you have to constantly think about is a getaway and clean up.  You don’t want paint on your hands if you get stopped by cops on the way back to your car, you know?  The gloves keep the paint of my hands and the mask keeps it off of my face and out of my lungs.  This stuff is dangerous to breathe and the last thing I want is to be getting dizzy while I’m trying to work fast.”  He picked up a can of paint and started shaking it.

“I don’t really have an idea in mind before I start.  I try to keep it spontaneous you know?  My work is a lot freer that way.  I just try to keep a lot of movement and good shapes in mind while I work.  Its about working fast as well as making something good that resonates with people.  To some that may seem limiting, but that just makes me work better.  I just start heading in a direction and I don’t stop until I get to where I want to go, you know?  I don’t really worry about messing up because there is no plan to mess up.  You cant mess up an idea you don’t have yet.  If I start going in a direction I don’t want to, I just change it.  The paint doesn’t have to go anywhere I don’t want it to so I really have a lot of control over it.”  After the paint in his hand was done mixing, Cosmic started to work.  He painted with incredible speed and accuracy.  Within a minute there was a billowing outline in purple of what seemed to be a piece of broccoli.  He switched colors and started a second layer.  Paint mixed and dripped forming beautiful contrast.  If Cosmic was truly creating on the fly, it did not seem like it.  Every stroke seemed orchestrated, ever shape planned.  This was not the work of a vandal or a hoodlum, it was the work of a skilled artist.  Within minutes, Cosmic stood before a finished work of art.  It was a neon mushroom cloud in the middle of a devastated city.  

“It just seems like people are going to end up destroying themselves you know?  We drop bombs on people all the time and one day someone is going to drop a bomb on us.  It takes only a few weeks to decide to bomb a village man, that’s such a short time to decide that its okay to take so many lives.  People who walk around here probably don’t think much about it either.  I tell you what they probably think, that this graffiti is destruction without thinking about the real destruction that’s going on all around the world.  What kind of world do we live in when some paint on a building is worse than the bombing of a third world country?  Its just sad man, you know?”  Cosmic took one last look at his work before he packed up his bag and threw it over his shoulder.  As he made his way back to his car Cosmic talked about the fate of his work.

“Well the owner of the place probably won’t see it for a few hours and it’ll take a few days to paint over it.   People will see it regardless, but that’s the nature of Graffiti.  Its all temporary, just like everything else, you know?  Nobody protects it or locks it up in a museum forever and I think that adds value.  A single tag is rare, its only available for a limited amount of time, they all get painted over eventually.  That’s also what keeps us going, we have to replace our work in other places and thanks to people cleaning it up, we have fresh canvases to paint on, you know?  But yeah, that painting will be gone in a week or two, that’s why I have to go make more now.”  Cosmic grinned deviously as he got into his car and drove away to find another perfect spot to paint, it seemed his night was just beginning.  

According to those who do it, Graffiti is a misunderstood art form.  Even though it is covered in opposition, much like a building covered in paint, at its heart lies truth and acceptance.  To some it is vandalism, to others it is the purest form of expression.  Graffiti is a victim and a villain, locked in a constant struggle for the view of the public.  The stiff gray blocks could represent society’s antiquated perspective as a whole and Graffiti could be seen as a way to break those conventions that has kept it in the shadow of the monolithic cityscapes.  A lifestyle, an art, and a crime, Graffiti is all of those things and it is none of those things.  As to what Graffiti is depends on your perspective but one can be sure that no matter what his or her view is, Graffiti will show you the world as you have never seen it before.