A boy named "Rime" and his story.

"Spraying a can is a lot safer than spraying a gun full of bullets."

I first met RIME in the alley behind Fresno's Ruud Studio in March; he was one of several graffitists who were showcasing their work that night. I was immediately struck by his candor, intelligence, and sensitivity. He never dodged my questions and gave me more than I asked for. As others stood around us, listening to him speak, I watched the expressions on their faces. There was not one person there who was not visibly moved by RIME's honesty and passion.

About a month later, I met RIME at a Mexican restaurant on the southwest corner of Hughes and Dakota. After an hour of talk, we spent the rest of the afternoon traipsing through the train yard and visiting permission walls donated by mini marts, tire shops, auto centers, and liquor stores. We covered lots of ground, geographically and topically, as our conversation roamed beyond the world of local graffiti. As the day drew to a close, I dropped him off at his parents' house, on an old tree-lined street boasting colorful spring gardens and well-tended lawns.

RIME is a 20-year-old college student and self-described "peacer". According to RIME, a peacer is a writer who is concerned with the greater good. RIME achieves this by creating what he considers to be uplifting scenes and making a conscious effort to engage in good behavior. He takes great pride in his art, yet, frankly, admits that working toward a positive goal was not always the case--far from it in fact.

RIME grew up on Fresno's west side, tagging as a pre-teen and following in the footsteps of an older brother, who initiated him into the scene and gave him his street name. For a 12-year-old homeboy, hanging with 16-year-olds was a heady experience, and RIME readily acknowledges their influence. Back then, his writing skills were not well developed, in the artistic sense, and most of his tagging fell into the category of vandalism.

Having endured numerous run-ins with the law, RIME has stepped back from random tagging on illegal walls. His interests, now, include getting through school and writing on permission walls. One day, he hopes to work professionally as a graphic designer or art director.

While his destructive behaviors are on the wane, RIME admits he still has the urge to "go underground". Once in a blue moon, he'll bomb a highly visible illegal space.

"I don't do private property, just city property, curbs, and trains. I try not to hurt anyone. I'll go out and do a billboard, or a train, and keep it anonymous. I trip out when I do something like that . . . that tells them, I'm still here; I'm cool. It's keeping it real for the underground. Others recognize my work and know I'm still faithful to my roots. I earn their respect. You've got to be it to understand it."

All that said and done, 99 percent of the time, RIME sticks to peacing on permission walls.

"If I'm not getting along with my girlfriend, I can come out here and work out my feelings in a creative and nondestructive way. It's a lot healthier than doing drugs or drinking, which is what I might have been doing."

A prime motivation for writing is gaining recognition by one's peers for doing something "daring and beautiful". Beautiful not just in the visual sense, but in terms of nurturing one's inner dimension. RIME describes the act of writing as akin to entering a meditative space, where the sounds of the city fall away. He says it's as if he's in another world where nothing can touch him, no one can bother him.

"We can be working for maybe 3 or 4 hours, and, like, I don't even realize it. After a while, we stand back and admire each other's work. We say how we like a certain color someone's using, or how they're getting an effect or going dimensional. Then, we just go back to work. We don't talk much; we're real focused."

Most of RIME's writing is local, but he hits the road, too. Sighting one's illegal work, a year after doing it, brings a visual thrill and an emotional reward that graffitists dream of, especially since much of their work is painted over within 24 hours.

"I went to a graffiti tournament in Chicago several years ago. There was no publicity, no permission, nothing like that. Word spread underground. It lasted a day--about 80 of us doing the trains. People came from all over the country. Another time, I saw one of my trains in Denver that I did a year back in Fresno."

RIME is a long-time member of the GTL crew, based in Fresno. Images of his work appear on this web site.

RIME's fluency in the graffiti genre was especially evident when we hit the Fresno train yard. There, he offered the insights and analysis of a fledgling art historian/ sociologist in hip hop drag.

Peacers like RIME don't intend to destroy property or harm anyone. They aim to create scenes that beautify neighborhoods, while simultaneously demonstrating their considerable skills as visual artists.

"I have an urge to use a spray can; it's somewhat addicting. Everywhere there's art, I own art, but there's nothing like street art."