Signs we were here
During my time spent living in Australia, on one of those days that seemed many moments passed the point of endless, a group of friends and I stumbled upon a most brilliant pastime, after spending many hours knee deep in Google searches and lost within aimless websites. Our discovery was an incredible building wall, less than twenty minutes from our dorm, where prominent artists from around the world could gather to spray colorful talent as signs for the building along every spare inch of brick. The thought of such a hipster-bliss set us off.
We headed to the closest convenient shop, got carded for purchasing a case of spray paints, and heading to the tram. We spent many hours lost within a maze of incredible scribble. Talent such as we had never seen. And of course, we got straight to work. Many people lingered about snapping photos of what was clearly a popular tourist attraction. We couldn’t have been more thrilled to leave our markings in Australia, and in what felt like a most rebellious way.
It didn’t take long for security to arrive. See, apparently anyone with less than impressive artistic skills weren’t all that welcome to disturb the joint. It was suggested that we use our eyes to appreciate, and to save our hands for skills we’d already mastered. Well we packed our things, got in some last looks, and headed on our way. But not before we left our mark, just to kindly let them know that we were here.