“Life’s a Risk”: SEK on Graffiti, Jail in Japan, and the Urge to Create
Written by Elena Calderón Aláez
Published on September 8th, 2025
Graffiti writer SEK laughs when he describes himself as “addicted to finger painting in the streets,” but behind the humor lies a lifetime shaped by rebellion, community, and creative urgency. From tagging in the gang-heavy neighborhoods of North East Los Angeles to being arrested for painting in Tokyo, SEK has never let legality or social norms dictate his art. In this candid conversation, he reflects on his arrest in Japan, the mental toll of jail, and why he still refuses to put down the spray can.
SEK: “Addicted to Finger Painting in the Streets”
“Hi, my name is SEK and I’m addicted to finger painting in the streets. It’s been three days since my last incident,” laughs graffiti writer SEK, comparing interviews to meetings in recovery groups. Born and raised in North East Los Angeles, SEK’s path into graffiti began in middle school. Growing up in a neighborhood marked by gang lettering, graffiti was always in his peripheral vision, but it wasn’t until his godfather introduced him to hip hop culture that it truly captured him.
“I remember him sitting me down one summer day to show me Beat Street. That got me going, not just in graffiti, but in the whole hip hop and B-boy culture,” he recalls. Soon after, his godfather took him to the local graffiti shop Giant Casting Shadows, where he bought his first streak marker. “That’s where things kind of started.”
“I remember him sitting me down one summer day to show me Beat Street. That got me going, not just in graffiti, but in the whole hip hop and B-boy culture,”
His early influences were a mix of the environment around him and the art that filled his family’s home. “Because of my older brother, I was aware of gang culture graffiti: old English letters, heavy shading, blocky letters. At the same time, my siblings had books on Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, Picasso, and Salvador Dalí. Those were my earliest artistic influences.”
As SEK discovered the broader graffiti culture, he became fascinated with LA’s pioneering writers: “After Beat Street, I began noticing tags around my town that weren’t gang-related. The first ones I saw were ZES, ATLAS, SABER, and AUGOR… The shit that I noticed was not just the styles… but the placement. They were high up, in some crazy-ass places. As a kid, I thought these guys could fucking fly or something. THAT! I want to know that feeling!”
LA vs. Tokyo: Fear vs. Freedom
When asked to compare graffiti in Tokyo to that in Los Angeles, SEK doesn’t hesitate: “Oh man… it’s different.”
He describes his early LA years as marked by hostility and danger: “The environment was very cliquish, hostile, and more often than not… violent. To be honest, I don’t think the violence was something we sought out; it just came with the territory. At some point or another, you were going to come across it and had to learn to adapt, cope, and survive. Being on edge, looking over your shoulder, and ready for anything crazy to pop off was just normal to me.”
Arriving in Tokyo felt like an enormous weight lifted. “In Tokyo, I didn’t have to worry about what neighborhood I was in, or looking out for cholos or cholas that could potentially run up on me. My stress level decreased by like 50%. And Tokyo cops aren’t heavily armed… I know they won’t fatally shoot me if I try to run. It’s not easier, but it’s less stressful, which helps you redirect the energy into just executing.”
For SEK, community is the defining difference. “That fucking ego trip shit goes out the fucking door in Tokyo… The love and community I have there because of the lack of egotistical nonsense is one of a kind. I’ve been humbled because of the sense of community I experienced in Japan.”
He credits fellow writer ZES with giving him advice that shaped his attitude: “Fuck all that shit, you don’t need that shit (ego mentality). Just stay in your lane and do you.”
“Fuck all that shit, you don’t need that shit (ego mentality). Just stay in your lane and do you.”
The Arrest in Harajuku
Despite the sense of safety, SEK’s Tokyo experience wasn’t without its challenges. This year, he was arrested for tagging on his way to meet friends for an exhibition in Harajuku.
“I actually prefer to paint during the day… I don’t ever feel like I’m doing anything wrong because it doesn’t feel like I’m sneaking around in the dark.” Wearing headphones and lost in music, he crossed the street to tag a pole, unaware of the bike cop behind him. “As soon as I started to write my name, I felt a giant yank from my bag… I turned around mad, and realized it was a bike cop yelling at me in Japanese.”
Within minutes, two cars and several officers surrounded him. “That shit sucked. Especially at red lights. Everyone kept looking in the car and saw my dumbass sitting in-between two officers in the back. But I did smile at them.”
Inside Tokyo’s detention system, the ordeal turned psychological. “There’s no such thing as ‘one phone call’ or ‘bail.’ You’re guilty until proven innocent, and they’re in no rush to prove you innocent. Knowing that no one is obligated to tell anyone where you are, why you were arrested, or if you’ve been transferred is mentally mind-fucking.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘one phone call’ or ‘bail.’ You’re guilty until proven innocent, and they’re in no rush to prove you innocent. ”
The daily routine was austere: 24/7 lights, strict silence, and showers only once a week. “You sleep on your back; no side sleeping or covering your face. They’ll wake you up and yell at you to fix your position.”
What weighed on him most was the thought of loved ones back home: “When I asked how much time I would do, they said five years minimum… The idea of being away that long and possibly never seeing my family again really mentally fucked with me.”
Artistically, however, the experience only deepened his drive: “It just made me want to paint more… to document my whole experience. It didn’t have a negative effect on me artistically. It was just more fuel to my fire.”
Graffiti: Rebellion, Communication, and Identity
SEK’s philosophy of graffiti is inseparable from rebellion. “Yes, it’s a form of rebellion. And yes… fuck the system, fuck social norms, blah blah blah… Graffiti is a very raw form of rebellion, one that is just a part of human nature.”
But for him, rebellion and communication are intertwined: “Rebellion is a form of communication. If you listen, you might learn something. It usually indicates that something is not right and needs to be addressed.” Tagging his name, he explains, is simply a way of saying, “I was there, at some point in time, I was where you were, and I exist. And even when I’m long gone, I’ll continue existing.”
His graffiti name itself embodies resistance. “SUCCESS is society’s definition of what it means to be successful. SEKCESS was my own personal definition, my own terms and conditions, my own finish line. I’m not trying to run anyone else’s race. It was my way of rebelling and saying, ‘FUCK ALL THAT NOISE.”
Why Japanese Media Paints Graffiti as Criminal
Graffiti’s negative portrayal in Japan doesn’t surprise SEK: “By social norms and standards, it is [negative]… Graffiti is a form of expressing myself publicly without permission or validation. It reflects the human spirit of rebellion against the limits placed on us.”
He connects modern graffiti to humanity’s oldest creative impulses: “Graffiti is one of the oldest methods used by cavemen to Egyptians to us now… to let society know: ‘HEY! I AM HERE! I EXIST! AND WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT, YOU WILL SEE ME!”
At the same time, he acknowledges the act’s selfishness: “I’m not gonna sit here and try to convince you ‘there’s nothing wrong with it.’ Graffiti is an ego-driven, selfish act. I know the consequences of my actions and I accept them.”
“Graffiti is one of the oldest methods used by cavemen to Egyptians to us now… to let society know: ‘HEY! I AM HERE! I EXIST! AND WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT, YOU WILL SEE ME!”
Still Painting, Still Defiant
Prison hasn’t ended his graffiti practice. “Yea, I’m still doing the ‘unorthodox,’ socially unacceptable graffiti. That’s not stopping… The day I willingly give that up is the day I would have forfeited my individuality and my self-will to express myself.”
After taking a break to focus on his health and enjoy life outside the art world, SEK is back at work: “I’m gonna work on curating one more solo exhibit in Los Angeles, hopefully by end of year or early next. Also, trying to curate another group exhibit and solo exhibit in Japan for next year. I’ve also been working on another book…”
“Yea, I’m still doing the ‘unorthodox,’ socially unacceptable graffiti. That’s not stopping… The day I willingly give that up is the day I would have forfeited my individuality and my self-will to express myself.”
Graffiti, he says, remains central: “I’ve got the itch again and I plan on scratching it. HARD. But with more discreteness. Can’t afford to get caught slippin again.”
Advice to Young Artists
SEK is candid when asked what he’d say to young artists caught between creative drive and legal risk:
“The feeling of being trapped between creativity and legality never goes away… Obviously graffiti comes with legal consequences. My advice? You make a choice and that shit has consequences. Learn to accept them. For better or for worse.”
He urges them to own their decisions: “Stand on both the choice and the consequences to your actions… If you can’t find yourself accepting the consequences, take a step back and reassess. Maybe you have to go about expressing yourself in a different way, and that’s perfectly fine.”
Ultimately, he believes that risk is inherent to creation: “Some of the greatest ways to express yourself come with the greatest risks. My friends and I used to have a saying growing up: ‘FUCK IT DOG, LIFE’S A RISK,’ so take it. And own it.”
For those outside the graffiti culture, SEK’s message is simple: “The only way to understand it is to go out and do it. And if you don’t, there’s nothing I could really say to make you understand… Just know that it is there, we are there, and we aren’t going anywhere.”
Elena Calderón Aláez is an independent researcher of Graffiti and Street Art and a flaneur nomad from Madrid. She graduated in Conservation and Restoration of Cultural Heritage from Complutense University of Madrid and is an active member of the group StreetArtConservators. She is part of the Street Art Cities community, and a member of an urban art & graffiti researchers group in Spain. She has been based in Tokyo since 2020 and is the Chief curator of TOTEMO street art NFT marketplace since 2021.