Meet Sight Zilla of South Central Los Angeles

Today we’d like to introduce you to Sight Zilla

Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
My story starts as a young boy that would draw pictures for his mother. I used my art to put smiles on her face as we experienced homelessness. We slept in cars and in parks. I watched my mother suffer from domestic abuse, patriarchy, and misogyny. My art always kept her smile soft. Going into puberty my mother and I lost our connection. My journey into manhood triggered abuse from my uncle and others that she would never speak of. I ran away, attended 10 high schools and lived on the streets off and on. I was even adopted by a Mexican family that spoke no English. The men there drove me out, jealousy or racism? I could never tell. My father was addicted to drugs and hid it very well. An alcoholic that gave me many tales of trauma. My mother left him when I was small, due to his crack cocaine addiction. I saw my father once a year maybe twice. I always prayed he would be my savior, however he was the one needing saving from trauma he could not transition through. After the completion of high school my mother kicked me out on the street. Instead of going to college, I was trying to survive. Taking shelter from anyone who could give it emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I was truly lost, had no guidance, and I made a lot of choices that impacted my life negatively til this day. I dreamed of having a mentor, teacher or just anyone that wanted to invest anything in me.

In the streets as a hopeless homeless romantic I met the love of my life, graffiti. It spoke to me, understood me and healed me. An art to some and to others not so much. The graffiti was my sacred feminine and taught me divine masculinity. It was fun. Adventure colored with a type of rites of passage.
My popularity grew in the graffiti world. I painted with my soul and tears. I received the love and attention I yearned for. However, it was not healthy. It made my ego big yet my heart was still larger.
Life got better, my self esteem had a backbone, and I learned financial independence and stability. However that all came to an end. The sheriffs raided my grandmothers house. The one person that gave me another chance to get back on my feet. 20 officers armed with military grade weaponry and a helicopter extracted me from my grandmothers house with a few hundred on lookers. The sheriffs bragged and boasted about how they would have loved to have caught me in the act and about how the same judge from the OJ Simpson trial signed the warrant for my arrest. I was interrogated and asked to sign pictures I did not understand as they promised to release me the same day. But they lied and left me in a cell without a phone call.
At the time I was a full time college student, working 2 full time jobs, and continuing graffiti as therapy and as a decompression. The plan was to save as much money as I could to buy my mother a house to rescue her from homelessness she was in again.
Here I was at court, facing 34 years in prison, $1 million bail and over $70 thousand dollars in restitution for expressing myself in an art form that many look down upon. I believed that this was impossible. That this should be all over the news. However, I realized that property was worth more than people. That things built by man was more important than things built by God or nature. Unable to afford a lawyer and afraid of losing in a trial with 34 years against me, I took a plea deal that my public defender insisted on. Hearing my family and friends cry out in court had me realize that I was in the prison industrial complex that I studied in my political science class.
I was off to prison. The plea deal I agreed to was 8 years, 8 months. The first few nights I cried so much. Was it from the withdrawals of capitalism or from the exhaustion of suffering that I was finally letting it out. Friends sent me books and I made a promise to myself that I would become better. My first book sent to me was the autobiography of Malcom X. I read books everyday and learned how to meditate. My spiritual journey began in a place where drugs, politics, and violence ran rampant. I received mail everyday from the graffiti community. I volunteered for fire camp and risked my life for peoples property. We were protecting property but not nature.
Graffiti became more for me at this point. It became more than a romance, it became something spiritual for me. Another tale of alchemy. Transmutation of a soul that was base and turned into gold. So I choose to give back this love I cultivated. Now more than ever the world needs more movements of love and inspiration. I teach kids and adults at my workshops for free. I do graffiti therapy sessions for free. I go to schools and teach kids how graffiti can heal you and empower you in an age where art programs are limited. Graffiti has done so much for me and I choose to share it’s positive attributes that are unheard of with the world.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
The plea deal left me with 10 felony counts on my record and a restitution I have to pay or my checking account will be froze. It makes it a challenge to find a decent job. I must pay the courts first before feeding and supporting my family. I did the time yet I am still suffering from the crime, my family also.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I do graffiti workshops for the community to facilitate healing through art and expression. I do graffiti therapy for people to have an affordable medicine that may facilitate healing. I do speaking engagements to educate people about graffiti and how important it is. I also do spoken word albums that articulate graffiti for people that are foreign to that world.

What would you say have been one of the most important lessons you’ve learned?
The most important lesson i learned on my journey has been the importance of art and love. Art is so important, doesn’t matter what type of art. It it needed for our souls. Art is the most importantly ingredient in the cultivation of love.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.Sightzilla.com
• Instagram: Sightzilla
• Facebook: Sightzilla
• Youtube: Sightzilla 1751
• Soundcloud: Sightzilla

Image Credits
None