I love street art. It brings creativity to everyday life, turns hidden corners into spaces for expression, and sparks new ideas. In Palermo Soho, I explored its vibrant murals with Vito, a student at Buenos Aires University of the Arts.
The mural above was painted by a local artist named Nasepop—his real name is Daniel. He moved from the Netherlands to Argentina as a teenager and found Buenos Aires dull in comparison to colorful Amsterdam. Out of rebellion, he started tagging his name all over the walls near his house. The problem? He used his real name. It didn’t take long for the police to track him down and knock on his door. His mother was upset but, instead of scolding him, handed him a book on graffiti. That was the start of his deep passion for street art. Today, Daniel is a well-known artist, leaving his signature 3D-style murals and bold lettering across the world.
As you walk through the streets of Argentina, you’ll often see the phrase No me baño, meaning I don’t shower. It all started with a group of graffiti artists and skaters from a town called Tandil. They spent most of their time on the streets and took pride in their rough, carefree lifestyle. To celebrate it, they began writing No me baño everywhere. For some reason, people in Argentina found this phrase amusing, and it quickly became a meme. Soon, others joined in, and the trend has continued for over four years.
The mural above is by Rockingmojo, who created Mojo, a character that embodies laziness. Mojo lounges around, doing nothing, and simply enjoys being lazy. People in Palermo fell in love with him, and fans began painting their own versions of Mojo around the city. Rockingmojo was happy to see his art spread.
This particular Mojo is special. Two years after its creation, Chilean artist Rojasleon added lettering around him. Initially, locals were upset, thinking Mojo had been defaced. But Rockingmojo appreciated Rojasleon’s touch, thanking him for decorating Mojo’s “room.” He even returned to add a yellow blanket beneath Mojo, so he could rest more comfortably. I love how this mural reflects the spirit of acceptance and collaboration in street art.
Vito also shared his favorite mural with me—‘I Am Watching You’ by Uasen94. The intricate patterns in the background and clothing create a hypnotic effect, making it feel as though the eyes of the young girl follow you wherever you go. Vito mentioned that it reminds him of the influence of media. “Media feels like a form of hypnosis to me. We’re constantly immersed in social media, and it shapes what we see, wear, and do. I’m not sure if that’s what the artist intended, but whenever I look at this mural, that’s the thought that comes to mind.”
This wall is easily overlooked by passersby, but it holds layers of stories. If you look closely, you can still see traces of its mosaic texture. The wall was originally covered in mosaic tiles until one day, a child with a spray can left graffiti on it. The city faced a dilemma—should they remove the graffiti, allow more of it, or paint over it?
They chose to cover it entirely with gray paint. But this only sparked frustration among the residents of Palermo, who felt the original mosaic had been ruined. At the same time, street artists saw the blank wall as a fresh canvas and began painting over it again. This cycle—graffiti, gray paint, new murals—continued every few months for four to five years. Eventually, the city gave in and officially commissioned a mural artist to create a permanent piece. The mural I saw was painted to celebrate Pride Month and the LGBTQ+ community.
If you look closely at the wall, you’ll see remnants of the past—pieces of mosaic, layers of gray paint, and faded murals peeking through. This is what makes street art so unique. Unlike other forms of art, it doesn’t last forever. Murals that once brightened a street will eventually be covered, replaced, and transformed. Like cherry blossoms, they are beautiful yet fleeting, making them all the more special.
One day, when I return to Buenos Aires, this alley will be filled with new murals, new colors, and new stories. But for now, I want to hold on to the art that once surrounded me—the stories it told and the fleeting beauty of its moment.