Despite their conflicts down the years, they've both had a single thing in common: their love for art. But the two gangs that color the streets of the New York undergrounds, may have to put aside their mutual passions when they cannot forgive and forget.
"I'll carry a weapon, sure, just to show that I have some self defense. And if they mess with my stuff, sure, I'll beat the crap out of them. But if it's meaningless and there's nothing to gain? Forget it."
"Hell, I can understand if you don't like my shit. And I can understand that you probably just don't like art. But what stupidity did this society brought you to think that there is only one way to create art?"
I'd rather have people ridiculing my work, than have blood splattered on it. Actually....that would be pretty cool.
Art and the creation of beauty was my life...'was', now it is my obsession, pain and hatred have consumed the rest.
"My colors may be bright and "girly" in this damn dark, vicious world, but that means I must be gaining one's attention."