Last Sunday, after more than a decade, a few of my friends got together to hang out and shoot the shit. It was great to see everyone again and crazy to see how we've all grown up. Most of us have known each other for more than 20 years and some half of that. Even tho we go years in between talking, what keeps us together is the fact that we are part of a CREW, a family, La Grand Familia. Now I know that might not mean much for some, but I take pride in knowing that in my teenage years I was apart of crew that put in work, got our ups, and earned our spot. I came from a era where having respect raised me, your name meant something. Back when respect was the most valuable thing you could of had and followers meant nothing, but social media has washed that thought right out the fucking window.
We began in 1998 with just 5 of us. Starting something from the beginning instead of joining a crew that was already established meant we could create our own mark, respectfully. We couldn't just start a crew in the city we lived in without consulting with any OGs that had already put their time in. Once that was done we began using the acronym that will forever be on the side of our names. No longer being a "oner"... It meant that you belonged to a crew and no longer alone.
NIMIK.:LGF
I was that local kid you would catch walking around the city with a backpack , at least 2 markers and a meanstreak. Soon as I would get home I would hide all my shit because my mom would of beat me with whatever she could find if she caught me with it. Moms didn't play! Catching tags everywhere I went was just a way of life at that time, a constant battle of who got up the most. It was always the best feeling when someone would ask if that's you they see up everywhere. Still denying it of course because the secrecy of the person behind the name was part of the game. If people knew who you where they could pull rat on you. The simple fact that I lived in El Monte and every other block was ran by a different gang made it harder to get up. In one block you have North Side then the other block Flores.. then crossing the train tracks was Hicks. One time getting threatened to get my finger chopped off. Honestly it added to the rush. Obviously never getting my finger chopped off.
Then we started to get into bombing which is basically the next step in that journey we call graffiti. I cant even remember the first time I did that but Im sure whatever I did was not good at all but I got the hang of it and was invited to hit trains and spots in LA. I remember the first train I hit on the 5 freeway when all of it was getting fixed, we were in Mario Kart with Becs swerving because the road was all messed up. We finally get to the spot and Im getting started on my outline, I was thinking it was the same as a wall and hitting a straight line not minding the edge on the train and I almost broke my finger. Smashed the shit out of my index finger! All I can say is that the rush that night of painting was something I had never felt. I was hooked.
Later I would paint some more. Skipping school with Eask to go paint the Venice walls. At this time I already had moved from El Monte to Covina but still was painting. I would take the Foothill Transit (492) to the El Monte Station not knowing how I would get back home. Getting picked up and heading to King Torta before we would go paint the night away. Driving in Aways Honda Accord or even in Futurs big ass van with the death seat! Running into other crews while out on the town and never really having beef but when it came to spot jocking that was a different story.
Now I would be a liar if I said I put as much work in like Futur, Phenik, Meko, Becs, Dur.. etc.. And for that I give them all the props for doing their thing to make everyone know who we were!
I could remember like it was yesterday when I did my last illegal spot. Phenik hit me up and said there was a spot on Garvey that he wanted us to hit. At that time I just recently had my first born and knew I had no business going out there but I did anyways. By the time I did my outline and filled a few letters in, it felt like Phenik was already finishing. All I could think about was getting busted... Basically I didn't even finish my bomb and left it half done. I felt embarrassed but I couldn't do it. My love for it at that time was not there and honestly was thinking about my girl and daughter the entire time. So I left it as that and didn't do any painting after that night, leaving it to the crew to do the damn thangg. I am a believer of putting in the work to be the best at whatever it is you do, and for me at this time my life I had to move on from spending my nights with a can in my hand chasing walls..
Fast forward to more than 15 years later... I became a barber and they supported me from day one! Being my clients, sending clients, helping get my shop known. I will forever be grateful for my crew, in which ever phase of life any of us have ever been in, we support.
I started this career in barbering with the same formula I used to write and the way I viewed graffiti. Knowing that anytime a client walked around with the haircut I gave them they were going to be walking around with my name and with the hopes that some one would ask who did it. This time letting them know who did!
Still creating an outline and using my shadows with a bit of a highlight to build a foundation but instead of walls I'm using hair..
It was great seeing the crew on that Sunday afternoon and cant wait to see them all again.
More stories to add later
RAZO.:
