The other day, whilst out wandering and casually searching for a rare Argiope argentata a recluse friend of mine had (somewhat dubiously) claimed to have spotted, I stumbled across a series of rather unusual graffiti tags. Instead of the ubiquitous expletives, crude pictures and the unimaginative likes of 'Baz wuz 'ere 2017' that were sadly the norm, I felt that with these pieces the artist, or artists, were attempting to represent a more meaningful, maybe deeper understanding of the urban environment. Albeit in numerical form.
This was the first I found:
85 8 115 89 2
It had obviously been there for quite some time, and had weathered well the passage of time; if a little touched up here and there. Numerals. Simple, bold strokes and interconnecting lines. A perfect juxtaposition of classic, modern and contemporary. Rafael, Kandinsky, Himid. Many contrasting elements of historic artistic development somehow merged in one beautiful form. Bronze, Silver and Golden orbs suspended in the medium of aerosol spray-paint
Crawling, red-kneed, through detritus, I soon discovered two more examples nearby:
8 90 68 74 53 34 19 7 8 74 7 33
53 117 39 83 117 39 5 39 84 74 16
Order was there, quietly; difficult to pin down. The original paintwork was antiquated, but unlike the surrounding palimpsests, this piece seemed consecrated; respected by all: skilled and unskilled, Banksy and Baz. Clearly the accumulated work of several generations of artists; some newly added sections, intricate lines of colour and form, were squeezed in between existing ones. But what did it all mean?
I chanced upon this quartet a little further out. Puzzling over the symbolism I slowly started to make some connections in my mind.
90 53 16 8 7 99 102 52 54 78 53 8 7 13 39
36 39 78 53 6 8 104 18 26 43 2 105 92 69 39
27 7 32 88 117 39 8 92 75 89 8 105 75 89 36
102 52 23 68 39 5 8 66 16 16 8 17 23 68
I noticed that some of the newly painted digits were fresher even than ‘Baz’ and his crew’s unsophisticated, hurriedly scrawled offerings. The epiphany moment was coming, I could already feel the tell-tale stirrings. I began to feel a rush of adrenaline as the prospect of unearthing something quite momentous washed over me.
Delving wolfishly into the urban jungle, scanning the tempting blank canvas of brutalist concrete, revealed another four unique numeric sequences.
95 39 16 52 45 39 7 8 42 75
90 53 14 16 85 88 66 22 8 7 13 6 89 2
6 95 8 92 9 57 32 66 99 53 117 85 90 53 7 53 22 13
15 76 52 110 27 8 44 66 11 52 16
Expanding my search perimeter once more, the dormant huntsman in me rejoiced. My heart pounding with excitement, I uncovered a final set of minutely detailed number strings. Beholding them, the pattern solidified, the order clarified, confusion evaporated and the artists' intentions were suddenly laid bare. My mind reeled with the simple complexity of the whole thing.
53 9 92 66 14 75 42 75 1 53 7 117 8 19 53 117 12 10 22 6
16 8 71 22 8 7 6 2 6 19 68 74 8 7 43 2 6 19
53 22 16 7 43 8 75 6 117 118 8 34 53 9
90 68 99 13 53 26 88 9 22 9 90 88 53 113 33
27 101 8 74 7 90 53 62 53 52 4 89 71 63 34 85 32 8 30
16 8 64 71 6 19 60 72 9 92 113 92 7 22 7 32 1
I laughed aloud; the journey had been beautiful, and in the process I'd even stumbled across my sneaky arthropod. She was exactly where I should have expected. I coaxed the wee beasty gently into my cupped hands. Finally sated, I replaced her with the due care she deserved, grinned to myself and strolled home, intending to devour a cup of tea and, rather aptly I thought, an egg sandwich.