Train Graffiti
Art on the Rails
I sat there in the dark and watched them slowly slide by in the rain. The rhythmic rumble of the steel wheels on the rails was more than a sound. I could actually feel the vibrations, transmitted through the pavement to my car.
The headlights of my old, white Lincoln and the Ford pickup next to me acted as spotlights on the sides of the boxcars and tankers. They provided harsh illumination of the brightly the colored images as, one by one, they emerged from the darkness on the right and passed into the darkness on the left.
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A 2019 story on top graffiti artists on Spraydaily.com featured work by Jaber, aka The White Ninja aka Freight King.
Graffiti artists use specialized spray paint to "tag" the sides of train cars, often in disguise and under the cover of night. (Image Credit: Thewest.com.au)
Every couple of seconds, a swipe of the windshield wipers would clear the raindrops from the glass in front of me before they could completely join together across its surface into a shimmering film. At the lazy rate the train was moving, each swipe was almost perfectly timed with the passing of another car and another swirl of color.
"I’m going to be here a while," I thought to myself.
It was late and I was on my way home after a very long day at work. Being Assistant Manager at an off-campus college bookstore at the beginning of a new semester meant a lot of long days and late nights. There were hundreds of textbook orders to process and ship daily and not nearly enough help to get them all done. Anyone who wasn’t paid hourly put in a lot of overtime for three weeks straight.
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As I tried not to fall asleep, hoping the train was getting near its end, I noticed one particular bit of graffiti glide into the light. I don’t remember what the letters spelled, or even if they spelled an actual word, because I was struck by the elegance of the lines and the choice of colors. This was clearly rendered by the confident hand of someone with real talent and I was transfixed as it passed into the darkness on the other side of the road.
I’ve studied art, so I think I have a real appreciation for what good art is, and I found myself wondering about the artist who had chosen the side of a steel freight car as their canvas of choice. I wondered why they weren’t painting on a surface they could sell in a gallery, or even at a street market, instead of on a train car that they may never see again.
More images came into view and disappeared into the night. They weren’t all as captivating as the one that first caught my eye. Some were just scribbles, others just appeared to be a name or an exclamation of some sort. But there were a few that stood out as genuinely striking and original.
Bright colors and large, stylized text are popular graffiti elements. (Image Credit: Spraydaily.com)
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Graffiti art is more than just "tagging" the sides of train cars. Many artists take the time to create bold, colorful, and complicated designs worthy of an art gallery. Some even document to process through video and share it on YouTube.
I began to wonder how many rail yard Picassos there were and where they were plying their craft. Where were these freight cars painted and how far had they travelled? As I wondered these things, the last railcar followed the rest of the train across the road into the darkness, the crossing gates lifted, and the rolling exhibition came to an end. Driving the rest of the way home, other thoughts and concerns pushed the images of the train graffiti to the back of my mind, but not completely out of it.
A week later, I started my last semester as an undergraduate student. I had put completing my bachelor’s degree on hold for more than twenty-five years, partly because of finances and partly because of burnout, with every intention of eventually finishing the remaining credits I needed. Now married and with a son in high school, I was taking the last two English classes I needed for my bachelor’s degree, one of which was Introduction to Creative Writing.
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The first assignment for the online class was to find inspiration in an ordinary moment in time and write a poem about it. I didn’t even have to think about it. The images of the train came flooding back to me and I knew exactly what I wanted to write about. Over the next few nights, I crafted a sonnet that described that night in the rain, watching the train and its artworks pass in front of me. I imagined the passing train to be like a movie, viewed frame by frame, with each of the individual images adding up to create a narrative, telling a story of the train’s travels and the people it had encountered along the way.
My Train Graffiti Sonnet earned me my first ‘A’ in creative writing. It was also the best piece of writing I produced for the class. Now, every time I find myself sitting at a railroad crossing watching a freight train roll by, that night comes to mind. I watch the graffiti glide by, and just like the night I sat in my car in the dark, I wonder who created them. I wonder what they mean and what inspired them. I wonder how far they’ve travelled, how far they’ll go, and if they’ll ever make it back to where they were created. And I wonder if I’ll ever know any of those things.
Train graffiti is so common it is now a part of model railroading. Hobbyists can purchase prepainted models or decals to decorate the own. (Image Credit: WalMart.com)
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Graffiti-clad freight trains pass through cities across the country every day. Each is a moving art exhibit traveling from one place to another.
Train Graffiti Sonnet
by Terry Vaught
The railroad cars are passing in the night,
and sitting here I watch them in the rain.
The headlights of my car providing light,
illuminate graffiti on the train.
I'm watching as a history is told
in artful shapes that flash before my eyes,
and see the story of the train unfold.
Who painted them? I only can surmise.
The image of a movie comes to mind,
its still frames flashing swiftly on the screen,
each picture just a small part of the show.
While watching in the dark, I come to find
I look at them, wondering what they mean,
and realize that I will never know.