Cruel City ft. Mayoe Episode 14

In this episode of the Cruel City Podcast, we catch up with Mayoe — a prolific U.S. graffiti writer known for his relentless tagging, spot awareness, and low-key personality. Balancing a regular office job with an active life in the streets, Mayoe describes himself as someone living a double life: staying anonymous in daily routines while spending his free time skating, exploring cities, and getting his name up wherever he can.

Like many writers, his entry point into graffiti came through skateboarding. Growing up in a small Midwestern town with little visible graffiti, he first encountered the culture during trips to bigger cities like Chicago and Los Angeles. Without a local scene around him, the early internet became his classroom — especially sites like Art Crimes — where he shared sketches and looked for feedback long before social media made graffiti more accessible.

Mayoe started painting around 2006 and spent his first years largely isolated from other writers. It wasn’t until he moved to San Francisco that he connected with a real graffiti community. The Bay Area’s dense, walkable environment and strong tagging culture had a huge impact on him, pushing him toward the kind of small, tucked-away “cuddy” spots that became central to his approach. That influence still shapes his work today, even after relocating to Chicago, where he notes a stronger focus on fills compared to San Francisco’s tag-heavy tradition.

Throughout the conversation, Mayoe is notably humble about his own style, describing it as something he’s still figuring out. Rather than chasing recognition through large pieces, he naturally gravitated toward volume and placement — building a reputation for being everywhere at once. He talks about the satisfaction of hearing that someone spotted his tag in an unexpected place, calling that kind of reach the highest compliment a tagger can get.

Surface and longevity also play into his strategy. He prefers aged, weathered materials — especially rusted metal and untouched brick — partly for their texture, but also because they’re less likely to be buffed quickly. That attention to spot selection, he explains, is just as important as the lettering itself.

Mayoe also reflects on the learning curve in graffiti. He describes his early years in San Francisco as being a “king toy” — someone with lots of spots but weak style — and sees that phase as common. In his view, writers either refine their work ethic into stronger graffiti over time or eventually drop off. For those starting out, he estimates it takes at least a few years of consistent practice to become solid.

Despite years of illegal activity, his encounters with law enforcement have mostly resulted in warnings or brief detentions rather than serious charges. One of his most memorable periods came from graffiti-related community service in San Francisco, where arrested writers were assigned together to buff walls — ironically creating a space where he met many respected figures in the scene.

When asked about influences, Mayoe points to high-volume taggers known for hard-to-reach placements and wide geographic spread. He credits seeing their work in unlikely places as a major motivation in his own approach, reinforcing his focus on coverage rather than single standout pieces.

At its core, his philosophy stays simple: graffiti should remain fun. He avoids scene politics, values respect between writers, and tries not to go over others’ work unless there’s real conflict. For the next generation, his advice is direct — take it less seriously, enjoy the process, and keep painting for the right reasons.

After nearly two decades of writing, Mayoe says he’d like to be remembered not for ego or reputation, but simply as someone who was cool to others — and who got up a lot.