“If you fall, get up.” We found it ghosted beneath the railway bridge, where rust runs like tears down concrete cheeks, where the wind holds its breath beneath traffic’s hum. A phrase not shouted, but etched—faint, hand-drawn— a weathered whisper surviving winter’s bite and autumn’s sigh. It is not just a sentence; it is a gesture, a lifted chin in the chill, a soft defiance sprayed in silver, where no one is watching, but someone once needed it most.
"If you fall, get up." We found this under the railway bridge near Higgins and Main.

Where Trains Rumble, Walls Talk

By Tony Eetak

“If you fall, get up.”

We found it ghosted beneath the railway bridge, where rust runs like tears down concrete cheeks, where the wind holds its breath beneath traffic’s hum.
A phrase not shouted, but etched—faint, hand-drawn— a weathered whisper surviving winter’s bite and autumn’s sigh.
It is not just a sentence; it is a gesture, a lifted chin in the chill, a soft defiance scrawled in blue and red, where no one is watching, but someone once needed it most.

Hidden art and half-finished messages under a Winnipeg bridge

It’s easy to miss if you’re just driving by, but under the railway bridge near Higgins and Main, the walls are alive. Every time we’re there, it feels different — tags overlapping, old pieces flaking off, new ones scrawled fresh in the night. The sound of cars passing by blends with the spray of paint cans, even if you can’t actually hear them. We always stop here, cameras out, catching what’s changed since the last time.

The bridge feels like a sketchbook no one’s guarding. Some of the graffiti is messy, almost like arguments written in colour — someone tags over another person’s work, someone else slaps up a sticker, then another layer appears a week later. It’s not polished, but that’s what makes it interesting. You can stand there and trace years’ worth of paint built up on the same few feet of wall, like reading a story that keeps getting rewritten.

We like to think of it as one of the few places in the city where the art never stays still. We’ve got folders full of photos from that bridge alone, each one catching a moment before it disappears under the next round of spray paint. You never see the same wall twice.

Filed Under: 2024-5782

This project was supported by:

This black and white photo exhibition by Tony Eetak explores the quiet poetry of Winnipeg’s bridges—their bones, their shadows, their forgotten corners. Bridges of Winnipeg: Seen and Unseen is not just a documentation—it’s a meditation. A monochrome walk through the connective tissue of the city, where every bridge is both a structure and a story.