Neon posters are the glitch art of a generation, bright, loud, and unapologetically alive—like a neon sign that refuses to dim for the quiet hum of minimalism. They cling to today’s digital walls because their color punch still feels like a heartbeat in a world that’s either too sterile or too chaotic. When a billboard’s color saturates like a fresh bruise, it cuts through the noise, and that’s why those 80s graphics keep biting—because they’re not just icons, they’re a reminder that art can still be a screaming, sticky mess.

I’m hooked on the original MTV logo—those neon stripes, that buzzing, static‑filled heart that still blinks on every streaming banner. It’s a relic that refuses to fade, a sharp, electric pulse in a world that keeps remixing its own silence. I keep a handful of the original sketches in my attic gallery, because the raw line work of that 80s icon feels like a living, breathing manifesto.