The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls.

Wet from the EDA Crew. Photo: Art Crimes

Illegal most of the time. Unreadable half of the time to passers by. And yet, one of the best parts of my day is driving under a bridge on the Massachusetts Turnpike so I can see the new work that was created while we were all sleeping. The late night artistry of graffiti writers.

When I was a child, my mother would trudge us through downtown Boston to visit my grandmother on a weekly basis. We'd travel by commuter rail, switch to the subway, and then hop on a bus. While waiting for each public transit vehicle, I would take in the scene around me. The smell of popcorn in Downtown Crossing from a street vendor, the homeless man that stood outside of Filene's Basement with no shoes, and the black markings and colorfully painted forms on mailboxes, bus stop walls, and subway trains. My mother told me it was vandalism.

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