You take a stroll down a bustling street and marvel at a wall of wildstyle. A couple of days later you return to find the art gone. Not replaced by a different piece; simply gone. Whitewashed. You feel cheated, like some demented magician’s pulled a fast one on you.

Welcome to Newtown, where street art has a sense of humour about politics, but the feeling no longer seems to be mutual.

Ever since the City of Sydney redefined its borders, Newtown’s been hit hard with the big fat zero tolerance stick. But apparently that’s not enough.

“It’s harder to catch spray-painters or taggers because you have to catch them in the act,” John Mousley, a council spokesperson said.

So now, NSW is chewing on its fingernails over whether to ban spray cans.

How about, let’s dial down the hysteria. For starters, all graffiti shouldn’t be equated with vandalism. Forms of street art like paste-ups, throw ups, stencils and murals ought to be given consideration independent of vandalistic tagging and etching.

Plus, cans aren’t particularly the vandal’s tool of choice. Marker pens and sharp objects are the easier-to-get-hold-of, cheaper, less conspicuous and more popular alternative. Banning the can will only up the rate of tagging and etching.

Newtown is practically synonymous with street art – it’s part of its charm, its essence, its identity. Take it away and it’s like stripping Flavor Flav of his oversized clock.

Graffiti signals to artists, musicians and writers that a city supports underground/youth culture. It breeds creativity. It’s no coincidence that Melbourne, Australia’s graffiti capital, is also the country’s culture capital. Likewise, Newtown is Sydney’s counterculture mecca.

Rennie Ellis once said, “Those good souls who scrawl on walls are moved by any number of motivations. And while it is easy to lump them all under one label, as graffitists, it’s not easy to determine exactly what it is they have in common.”

Quite right. And the council is just not interested in making any distinctions. So buff they do, anything that doesn’t resemble a blank wall.

Sure, defining art has never been easy. Its boundaries seem to blur constantly. Take for example, Tracey Emin’s 1999 Tate Britain installation My Bed, which made her a Turner prize nominee for exhibiting her own unmade bed with used condoms and blood-stained undies. Art? Or ‘crap I wouldn’t go see even if I was paid to’? Tricky. So why not extend the same liberties to street art (where at least there’s no fear of catching an STD)?

Or a compromise: how about making certain areas legal?

Graffitist Dvate notes, “There is definitely a place for both [legal and illegal walls]. Nothing beats the rush of rocking a panel or bombing the streets, or walking the tracks at night. Legal walls however, let you produce something which may not be able to be done illegally.”

There’s much to be gained by acknowledging the difference between obscene vandalism and street art. All it calls for is a little council discretion.

But how much can we rely on the council really? Dvate explains the situation in Melbourne right now is not much better: “We are now guilty until proven innocent. We can no longer paint legal walls without council permission – which takes a few months and usually never gets approved.”

By not giving graffers even the tiniest bit of leeway, the Man is only setting himself up for a big fall. Newtown stencil artist GlitaGrrl sums it up: “It won't make any difference to where they do graffiti; if a place inspires them, they will do it regardless.”

'Nuff said. Maybe there’s hope for Newtown after all.

- Words and pictures by Soharni Tennekoon