Sloan [Hearts] Neckface

by Ian GRODY
 

Dear Neckface:

Today I took the 1/9 from Chambers. The guy hunched over me, eying the map, had something silver in his pocket. When the train stopped, the silver thing fell out. The guy picked it up. Spray-paint. Red. I thought of you. The guy had a thick neck with a subtle jaw. He was a beautiful continuous body like a — yup, it hit me — neckface. I said hello. He grunted. Did you grunt at me? Sound travels quick and hard like cannonballs through such un-sculpted bodies! Was it you I said hello to? If not, know I’m thinking of you, you’ve got a lit window in my brain. Well, I’m leaving this note next to your latest tag, as usual. FLUG, it’s grunt work climbing billboards and fire escapes, but if you can do it…

Yours Yours Yours,

Sloan

 

Dear Neckface:

I saw what you did at the Chambers Street subway. Big bubble letters. NECKFACE. Right by the beam I usually stand next to. Sweetie! Notice my — I don’t want to call them revisions — okay, supplements? Right-o, I transformed your C’s! Those open mouthed letters with down-dipping curves became closed mouthed hearts. And I’ve got a confession. The paint pens used to symbolize our love… stolen. Tucked them right under my pashmina at Home Depot on 23rd. Asked the salesman to carry a plastic palm from home furnishings to the register. And while he was distracted… hehe. What can I say, we’re outlaws. Desperado Numero Uno and Desperado Numero Dos. Funny how love can fill a girl with bravery. Anyway, I’ll be cruising Tribeca tonight, looking for new tags. I figured out your habit of canvassing one neighborhood at a time. Adorable.

Yours Yours Yours,

Desperado Numero Dos (AKA Sloan)

 

Dear Neckface:

Crappy news. Some a-hole tagged over our Chambers Street collaboration. Big black exes right through NECKFACE. I know, infuriating. But worry not, my little artist, I’ve supplemented other tags. You’ll notice heart-shaped C’s in the NECKFACE near The Odeon. Plus hearts on the giant Calvin Klein ad on Canal Street! How did I get there? Well, I only snuck into a doorman building, took the stairs the roof, and laid a ladder flat from the roof to the billboard. Craziness. Can I tell you why I love you? Oh  — before I forget — I also supplemented the NECKFACEs on the land bridge by the University, over the marquis of The Flea, way up above the Brandy Library. I love you because you’re unafraid. You plaster your name across this metropolis of risk-feares like a… a big illumined thing. Like a hope? When I see NECKFACE, I see BE NOT AFRAID. See for yourselves the lengths to which I go, scaling sky scrapers, eluding policemen. I mean, you really hang your balls out! So admirable. Anyway, I haven’t seen any new tags so I’m leaving this note taped to the top of the beam by Chambers Street. Here’s hoping it finds you!

Yours Yours Yours,

Sloan-Face

 

Dear Neckface:

Are you mad at me? There’s a new NECKFACE at the Chamber’s Street station. It’s right above the old one — but, what, no hearts? You ARE mad at me. What’s worse there are big black exes through all my supplemented tags. They’re all tagged over with new NECKFACEs, also sans hearts. Well, let me just say (and excuse my being forthright) you’re a little out of line. I mean you’re a great guy with a great message but what you’re doing… it kinda pisses me off. If your message is BE NOT AFRAID then buddy, Be Not Afraid To Love. That’s right. I suspect the great Neckface is afraid to express his heart. Will the itty-bitty bombers wit their witty-bitty spray paints say Neckface went soft? LET THEM. They’re jealous. Your graffiti means more to this city than the grand total of theirs combined! Leave those pussies the Big Pun memorial on Avenue C. Let ’em touch up murals outside the Third Street WaMu. Reveal to Manhattan our hearts.

Get With The Fucking Program ASAP,

S.


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This story continues!
in Issue Seven of the J.A. print edition.

 

You can find it online
or perhaps
at your local independent bookseller.

 

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