Neon Shame

It seems I have gained a new hyper fixation from my coursework: roaming through the city in search of graffiti. I have complied a folder of images allowing me to analyze the work and recognize the artists who live around me. The obsession has entered my dreams with the sentiment of, “I hope they know someone is watching”.

The first piece that really sparked my interest and sent me down the rabbit hole was by Shame.

The 4×10 ft throw up was placed in front of the US 41 highway overpass, at the far end of 7th street, with black spray paint lettering and minimal shading allowing it to be easily read as people drive past. It was signed with intention. H2K sits atop his name, identifying his crew who he is in the graffiti world. 

He demonstrates a mix of bubble and block letters to create a unique style, seen through the smooth curve of the S and E, but sharp edges of the H and M. The letters are compact, flowing together to create a sense of unity and balance. His hybrid of styles creates a message for more than just other writers, but for us too.  

I found this piece by accident as I was driving home from work and felt like I needed to pull the car over.  This “simple” throw up had me asking questions about myself, the writer, and my city: why do I feel connected to this one word, why was “Shame” a name that spoke to this writer, and what has he endured to get his name seen? I wanted to know everything I could.

Many blogs, Instagram’s posts, Reddit pages, and even a YouTube video have shared Shame’s work. He has been seen far from my home, like New York and Pennsylvania. I sense of pride swirled in my chest; my city had been seen. It was claimed by someone who wanted to document the places they have been and let us know he was here. In my imagination, Shame witnessed the culture and community here that I know and love. I felt like I was becoming a part of something bigger, not just passing a vandalized wall.

Shame made me re-evaluate a familiar space. The environment is no longer passive, but a physical surface of contemplation; I feel connected to this presence and my own interpretation of his message. The graffiti disrupted my mundane routine, allowing me to think deeper about the community around me. 

After my deep dive, I planned my days off to get work done downtown or in Ybor. Coffee in hand I walk the streets, eyes scanning every doorway, brick wall, and street sign that could be claimed by a writer.

I shifted my focus to the writers who reside here; people in my community who have the need for expression and visibility. I decided I don’t need to find meaning in every tag, throw-up, or piece. I can observe them for what they are and what they have to offer me. Some may speak to me, others may not, but at the end of the day I wanted to be someone who noticed. Finding the graffiti made me present, took me off autopilot, and gave me connection.

I saw a small, likely marker written, tag walking to get food on my lunch break: “Neon”. As I walked through different streets of Ybor, I continued to see it more and more.

Down 8th street, I found a chain of the tag. I was impressed by the repetition; a steady hand that produced such consistency style. The bright yellow caught my eye, and as I followed each tag, I caught Neon’s throw-up. This was the first time I had seen different styles and forms from the same writer. The familiar sense of curiosity took over. I am currently hunting more Neon.

On my night outs, brunch dates, or general strolls, I will continue giving my city closer attention to see what I can uncover. The next time you see graffiti, don’t just look and move on, ask yourself a question. Who are they? Why here? You might just find, like I did, that a single word can make you feel more connected to your surroundings than you thought possible.