My honey & I found a wicked-awesome,  spray art-saturated, gem in Starland Savannah.  The walls oozed a graffiti that defied interpretation.  Not even in the same remote realm as the normal tags and bold paints on a desolated canvas.   Pink, pale blue, & newsprint soaked our surroundings, notably the work of a radical creative.  The impromptu gallery was gated off by a metal fence that say atop years of drag marks on the cement, it was clear that this ground had been tread on by a great assortment of rule-breakers. The sun blazed down, through the weedy broken-beamed ceiling, illuminating a path, inviting us in.