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A review by mymble
Graffiti Moon by Cath Crowley
5.0
I think I was meant to read this book, like, even before I heard about it I think I knew I was going to read a book about graffiti.
Friday afternoon I was riding in the backseat of our car, just looking out the window, when we passed by a wall. The wall itself was a mess, it had multiple layers of graffiti smacked on to it, all of it in one significant spot, but there were words, too, and the words said,
"You tell me I'm the best, but why am I still depressed?"
I used to think graffiti was an ugly form of art, in fact I didn't even consider it a form of art, I thought it was just a mess made by someone who had nothing better to do with their life. I didn't understand it then, but now I think I have an idea.
Friday afternoon I was riding in the backseat of our car, just looking out the window, when we passed by a wall. The wall itself was a mess, it had multiple layers of graffiti smacked on to it, all of it in one significant spot, but there were words, too, and the words said,
"You tell me I'm the best, but why am I still depressed?"
I used to think graffiti was an ugly form of art, in fact I didn't even consider it a form of art, I thought it was just a mess made by someone who had nothing better to do with their life. I didn't understand it then, but now I think I have an idea.