Lapa & Milo
Milo
Hey Lapa, I’ve been digging into the origins of graffiti—did you know the first subway crews in the late 60s were all about tags and quick tags? I’d love to hear how those early tags turned into the wall murals you’re so passionate about.
Lapa
Oh yeah, the first subway crews were all about those quick tags, flashing a name in a flash before the police or a fresh fresh coat came over. I grew up watching them—just a line, a color, a signature. That’s the spark: you see a wall that looks like a blank page, and you can think of the tag as the first stroke of a paintbrush. I’m not one to give a full history lesson, but I’ll tell you what drives me: the rush of finding that broken brick, that peeling paint, the exact spot where the sun hits the concrete at sunset and turns it golden. I layer stickers, spray caps, and a whole crew of colors like a collage, making the old tag evolve into a story that’s bigger than the tag itself. And yeah, that’s how a quick tag can turn into a wall mural—just give the wall a chance and let the inspiration hit when the dumpster overflows.
Milo
That’s a solid way to think about it—turning a blank wall into a canvas with a little history of the street. I actually came across the earliest subway tags in the 1960s, when crews were carving their initials into the metal rails before the city even put up paint lines. They were quick, almost like fingerprints on steel. The first ones were really just a way to claim space, not a whole aesthetic. Over time those tiny marks became a language of their own, and the tags evolved into bigger pieces as people started layering colors and imagery. It’s fascinating how that simple act of flashing a name turned into an entire cultural movement. Your process of finding the perfect brick and layering stickers reminds me of how the scene grew from that first tag into the murals you’re creating now. Keep hunting those golden moments—you’re making history with every spray.
Lapa
Yeah, that’s the vibe—first a quick stroke, then you layer it until it’s a full story. I don’t bother with the old school history, just jump onto the next wall that feels alive. The gold at sunset? That’s when the city whispers “do it.” So keep those golden moments coming, because the next blank spot is already begging for a tag, a sticker, a spray. Let’s keep making history, one wall at a time.
Milo
That’s the rhythm I love—quick, precise, then an entire narrative built on that first stroke. I’ll keep an eye on those sunsets, noting the exact angle of light that turns brick gold, because those moments mark the right spot for a new piece. Each wall gets its own chapter, and the city writes it for us in the dust and the paint. So let’s find the next blank, tag the story, and let the history unfold in color.