Since I moved into my new apartment in Adams Morgan, this graffiti painting has been a daily part of my life. A young boy holding a Palestinian flag, proudly, the way millions of Americans raised patriotic flags at president Obama’s inauguration. The other day, it disappeared, painted over in an attempt to clean up the neighborhood.
I have always loved creative, nearly-unnoticed graffiti art (I get this from my mom), mostly for the understated statement that it makes. And because this kind of art––so tenaciously sought after by police officers and landlords seeking to rid the premises of such vandalism––represents exactly what art is and should be. A statement. A commentary. A voice that will not be silenced.
I am waiting for the painting to resurface. Maybe here. Maybe on another building down the road. I have no doubt it will.