Whether it’s sketches, money, photos, documents, random souvenirs or drug paraphernalia, many mooks can relate to the sacred shoe box stashed somewhere in a dark corner of their closet. I know I have a few. Most people who were writing before the digital era probably have a couple as well. Looking back, I highly regret not taking photos of my graffiti and lifestyle from the times when my level of mookness was at its highest. Maybe this is one of the main reasons why I’m so obsessed with documenting everything today. I guess it’s also because my level of mookness was so high back in those days that it never even crossed my mind to go rack a camera and take flicks of my toy shit as well as the things around me so I could enjoy them years later. Plus, you have to pay to get them printed. Fuck that! There were no 16GB SD cards or 69 megapixel cameras back in those days. All I cared about was paint, weed, beer, pussy and, hopefully, I had enough money at the end of the day for a 49 cent slice of pizza.

As a result, I have literally zero graff flicks from my early years and just a couple of digital shots from what came after the millennium. It was only ten years later, in 2009, that I decided to get a camera and now, well, you already know. All the film photos in my shoeboxes are either shots of my ex-girlfriends or immigrant photos that I stole from family albums. The graff boxes are flicks that were handed down to me by mooks like Oath who himself got many of them from the Fr8ophiles member Here. It’s thanks to writers like Here who had the patientce and took the time to document things in the pre-digital era so that kids who were born in the ’90s can now enjoy the history.

The other day, I was looking for some rolling papers when I stumbled upon some flicks from my homie Coma’s shoe box. His box might as well be mine because Coma and I came up on the same things at the same time in the same neighborhood. I guess this is why he straight up just gave me all his photos. I got this chubby young mook to do his first tag and for a moment, Coma had outran me in the graff game. I moved out of the hood and he kept going at it, taking flicks and bombing until he got caught and did some prison time. He has long stopped bombing and these days, he can barely do a decent throwup on paper. The photos live on, along with some good and bad memories. I’m gonna let him share some of these darts in a new section we called Shoe Box Diaries.

Coma: Little big man Next, doing his thing. Leather dye: the choice of champions.

Coma: It is no longer with us, and I feel bad for you new kids that will never experience Jenkins. This spot was the ultimate writer’s playground.

Coma: If you can’t read this, check your optics! DREAM TEAM

Coma: Only god can buff me…

Coma: Waaatch Nesar!

CDN tracks, where Coma and I did our first fill-ins. Clown and Diablo… LOL. Doesn’t get more toy than that. At least the paint was juxed from kids that were way bigger toys at the time. Thats all I have to say in our defense.

Coma: I took this pic because at this point, in the early 2000s, it was rare to see a CASE tag or throw-up and it was during the SVC comeback season. One of my favorite handstyle monsters. Shouts to the homie Drew BTR too.

Coma: Comeback King. I remember that one winter when BACER SVC did his comeback, just killed shit.

And another one…

Coma: Snowdon metro doors got tagged on the regular. Gangstagraff at its best.

Coma: So clean, so fresh. Josef is always on point.

Classic Loes ground-up. Ten years later, still as good. Some styles are timeless.

Coma: Wall of fame when entering NDG railroads. This wall lasted for more then a decade.

I remember this ground-up right by Coma’s crib. Sek was always one of my favorite writers when it came to general style, especially handstyles. To see one of his old ground-ups is a rare treat.

I used to think this shit was so fresh back in the days… Things done changed.

Coma: Epic… FREE JAH. 

So there you have it. The first of many Shoe Box Diaries to come. There is a lot more that could be said about some of these photos, but certain memories should stay sacred. I want to thank Coma for letting us plunge in to his shoe box and sharing it with the rest of the world. If anybody wants us to feature the flicks in their forgotten shoe box, drop us an email. It would be a pleasure.