The mural art in this city is consistently bland and uninspiring. It’s everywhere. Unremarkable scribbles of nothing. Bad figurative paintings that could have been generated by an algorithm. It appears that mural artists are prone to occupying the basement of the art world, dutifully fulfilling the vibrancy project of the elite. The cultural production of art has long been lost. It’s a race to the bottom.

Pretty colours and Instagram-friendly images plaster our alleys and side streets. Shallow art for the attention economy; tailor-made for those who don’t like complicated ideas. Work that lacks voice, criticality, or worldview.

This graffiti, however (which couldn’t have taken more than 45 seconds to complete), has more soul, meaning, and power than 99% of the uninspired and lifeless copies that we’ve become conditioned to accept.

This is art.

Whoever you are, thank you.