There is a beautiful wall covered in fresh spray paint on the corner of Bowery and Houston in NYC. It's known as the Bowery Wall, and it was first painted by famous American artist Keith Haring. If you don't know, Keith Haring is the guy who made the art you see that looks like this. But the wall is now claimed by American artist and muralist Tristan Eaton.

If you haven't heard of him, you soon will, because that wall, is only painted by legends, and this guy, Tristan Eaton, is on his way to becoming a living one.

I first saw Tristan's work in West Palm, a small neighborhood just a bridge across from Palm Beach. I was walking about with my camera, doing this thing I call mural hunting, and there was this collage of colossal scale towering in front of me. And at first I really didn't know what I was looking at but I knew I liked it - some colorful Americana pop art inspired thing. I took down the name of the artist, and that's how I became a fan of Eaton's work.

The mural was of Alexander Graham Bell and it was on the wall of a tall brick building - if you'd like to see it, it's located at 326 Fern Street, West Palm Beach, FL 33401. So I look the guy up, and there it is. Mural after mural, each as exciting as the one before it, each with a distinct collage style of color crafted into something playful, something a little bit bad, with skulls and guns blending seamlessly with cartoonish figures and pin-up style women.

It turns out, he's spray painting several stories high free hand. If you don't know how insane that is to even comprehend, think about covering a living room wall with a roller. Now imagine doing 80 of that same wall but with cans of spray paint. That's some kind of talent, right? Sistine Chapel, who? I find out this guy Eaton, he's got a lot of political inspired work. Shit, this guy isn't some white boy from L.A. spray painting for the hell of it, though you really couldn't argue his talent if that was the case anyway. He does work about various uprisings in human history, in a series aptly titled Uprise.

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So, like that, I end up at the Bowery wall on a hot day in late June when Tristan Eaton is working, wrapping up his day before a book signing. He's sitting on a chair, one leg folded over with his left ankle on his right knee talking to a kid who is giving him a small piece of framed artwork. Now he's agreeing to follow the kid on Instagram. I'm awkwardly waiting to tell him I like his work. I can't intrude on this kid's moment though, because though I walked up mid-convo, I know this is an important meeting for this kid. And if you're any kind of good, you don't fuck up moments like that.

Instead, I hear "Want me to take a pic of you in front of it?" from this young guy. He's wearing skinny black jeans and he's got this hair going on, something like a parted mushroom cut from the 90s but far less corny looking. I strike up a conversation with him, who turns out to be a kid named Spencer. from L.A. He's sitting on a box with a Macbook on the sidewalk and he's got some video editing application open with what looks like drone footage. Spencer has been documenting artists - he's in New York filming Tristan, he's going down the street to get some content on JR, and I see him tabbing through the work of muralist Roa. That's the thing about art people, man. They're always surrounded by equally interesting people.

It's my turn. Tristan says hello, asks my name, extends his hand for a handshake. I mention how I've liked his work since I saw the first one in West Palm beach. He tells me a story about it, also telling his friend sitting next to him, Steve, the story. I'm in a surreal moment, because I'm realizing again, that street artists are often the foil to the classic snob artist perception. He's really just sitting on the sidewalk taking a break talking to people. I'm listening, but also processing, that this guy is probably the humblest human out of L.A. that ever existed (no offense L.A.). The mural, he goes on, had crumbled at one point, bricks gone, exposed construction insides eating the face of the mural. He says, there was no way to fix it, so I did it over. He did, what? He redid an entire wall in a new style of the same Alexander Graham Bell. I saw the second one.

I tell him I like that work, but the Uprise work, is really my favorite. I say I liked White Collar Power, the one titled Black Panthers, the one called Black Napoleon of Toussaint L’Ouverture. I tell him there are no prints available - he lets me know he’s picking 10 to release soon. He asks me, and I don't really know why, what I thought of the Marie Antoinette one. I tell him the truth. I'm from the Caribbean, and I barely saw that one, because the others spoke to me more. He nods, unoffended, like he got what I meant. I ask, what's this one about, tilting my head towards the Bowery wall. And this is where I knew he would be one my favorite artists, he says, a slight grin in the corner of his mouth:

"Nothing."

It's about nothing? Yeah, he explains, I needed a break from the heavy political stuff. And that's when I knew he was a human before he was an artist. And I'm thinking, he knows protecting the joy of creating art, is as important as making art for the bigger statements. I'm thinking this is the part I have to remember, that he said it's about nothing, and that he wanted to do something fun. He then begins chatting with his friend again, later asks me take a photo of him and his friend in front of the in-progress piece. He's eating street food half the time he is doing all this, grinning and talking to anyone who speaks to him as they pass by.

Tristan Eaton and Steve in front of the Bowery Wall.

Later that night, I stand in line in the dimly lit back area of art-filled restaurant Vandal waiting to pick up a copy of Tristan's book. He's smiling and signing books and posters in front of another wall he painted. Imagine leaving a trail of art across America and still being this chill.

Here is everything I want you to take away from this if you cared enough to read this experience: you can be the dopest artist and still be the nicest human. You can make art that's heavy, and take a break. You can be a cliche of an artist, or you can be a Tristan Eaton. And last thing, check out his work and follow him.