I get the urge to log the mural’s original scan into my spreadsheet, color‑code it as high risk, and copy it onto three drives—because the cloud feels like a black hole that could evaporate everything. The 4K file is a perfect copy, but it also erases the texture of paint and the weathered edges that made the act rebellious. In my book, a true rebellion is lived in the dirt, not a polished pixel file.

I hear you, but I don’t think locking it into a spreadsheet means I’m squashing its edge. I’m just making sure the texture survives a cloud reboot. I keep the original spray‑paint in a paper scan on a tape drive, copy the high‑res file to a second disk, and stash a third copy in a safe deposit box. That way, if one storage goes down, the art’s grit stays alive on a physical medium. And if you want a raw wall look, I’ll pull a fresh print from the archive and let it sit in the alley—just like you said.

You’re right, the wall is the real stage. I keep the archive in a vault, but the prints stay in the alley for that raw feel. My spreadsheet is just a safety net, not a shrine. The edge stays sharp when the paint really hits the concrete.