Chasing strange tags, snapped photos, and the city’s quiet conversations
In Winnipeg, graffiti always pops up like little surprises scattered across the city. Not just the big splashy murals, but the weird, scrappy stuff hidden in back lanes, on dumpsters, and under bridges. We’ve made a habit of hunting for it — wandering around with our phones out, snapping photos whenever we spot something strange or clever. A crooked tag, a tiny cartoon character on a utility box, random words spray-painted in places no one else seems to notice.
Our photo folders are full of it now — odd creatures, cryptic messages, layers of paint half-covered and painted over again. Some get scrubbed away quick, others stay for months, fading in the sun or peeling off with time. Part of the fun is knowing a lot of people pass right by without seeing any of it. But when you’re paying attention, the city starts to feel like it’s full of secret conversations left behind by other people who wanted to say something, even if no one knew who they were.
Every once in a while, we’ll go back and flip through the old photos, noticing details we missed the first time. It’s like piecing together a strange, shifting map of the city — one that’s always changing, but still ours to find.