Spray Paint

Cold handles, and bloody cheeks.

it's 2am. i'm dressed in black, head to toe. i have my spray paint cans in my bag, my gas mask on, ready to go.

i pull up my hood, making sure none of my hair is showing; tightly packing my hair inside of my hood and tightening the strings.

I pull the freezing medal door handle on my front door down slowly, making sure not to make any noise.

god, mom turn off the damn ac once in a while. it's freezing.

i walk down the street to the PERFECT blank canvas, a huge slab of cement wall near the old abandoned tower by my house.

i don't know why Luxury hasn't painted it yet, it's perfect.

Luxury is another graffiti artist in town, a lot of people compare our art since we're the only 2 street artists in town, besides the kids who spray penises around town for the fun of it.

I mean i get if anyone under the age of 12 might like Luxury's work, they put absolutely no storyline in their art what so ever, just bright colors.

Don't get me wrong, I respect their work. it's not necessarily bad, it's just not my style.

i mostly use black and white paint, i've heard a few people say my work is boring or depressing but most love it because of the stories i put in them.

i'm glad people love my work, even if they don't know it's mine.

My first street painting was an ugly ducking theme. it was a big one, and it was talked about quite a lot that week in school. The feeling was memorable and words can't describe how I felt. Whether the opinions were good or bad, I loved the backlash either way.

The best part about my first painting is that they left it up. I'm not sure if they just didn't wan't to take care of it, or if they just liked it. Either way, it's fine with me. i've gotten like two or three projects taken down.

I grab a can from my bag then spray the black paint on the cement. i love new cans of paint, it goes on so smoothly.

I use white to make the mouse in the black spot i've made. The mouse is sitting alone in the dark with birds surrounding him, I made the eyes big so you could see the fear and the birds in his eyes.  I mark it with my signature "Lexx". I back up to look at my work, and smile.

I shove my cans in my bag, tie up my bag quickly, and run to my house as fast as I can.

as i'm running up my walkway, i do a complete face plant. i pull myself up as i feel something wet dripping down my cheek as it burns.

I slowly open the front door, and go to the bathroom to look at my face. My cheek is covered in blood. I think i'm going to pass out. I go to the kitchen to grab paper towels and soap to clean it. it looks raw.

i grab some tape and gauges from the mirror cabinet in the bathroom, and patch up my face.

I put away all my things, throw my bloody sweatshirt in the wash, and get in bed.

Hopefully i can actually fall asleep tonight...