Many graffiti writers look forward to blizzard in New York because between the winds and the snowplows and slippery streets, nobody is paying attention to the lonely aerosol sprayer hitting up a wall.

On this New York Saturday when the streets are white, no cars in sight, we trudged in heavy boots, yet quietly, up the middle of the drifted path, looking for a good spot for a snowman. On the frosted way we spotted this freshly painted tag, the color of the sky and the ground, arriving suddenly like a blizzard.

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