So there I was scrolling through Instagram last Tuesday when this wild graffiti piece popped up. Someone tagged #jeffersonquero in the comments – never heard the name before but damn, those colors exploded off the screen. Immediately dragged my lazy butt to the garage, rummaged for half-used spray cans, and grabbed a crusty plywood board leaning against the lawnmower.

The Hot Mess Phase
Tried replicating that liquid-drip style from the post. First can sputtered like a dying lawn sprinkler. Shook it like a maraca, cap clogged solid. Dug through junk drawers for nozzle replacements – ended up using a busted WD-40 tip. Pro move? Nope. Pink overspray coated my left sneaker while attempting a swirl. Wiped it with a rag, just smeared neon goo everywhere. Looked like unicorn vomit.
When Stubbornness Pays Off
Next day bought actual artist-grade caps from the craft store. Watched three different YouTube tutorials at 2am. Key things I learned:
- Distance matters – held the can too close and drips became puddles
- Layer like lasagna – background first, then outlines, details last
- Cardboard is your friend – cut stencils saved my shaky hands
Failed six attempts on poster board before touching the plywood again. Mixed mint green with cobalt until it looked like ocean foam. Actually liked the happy accident.
The Final Stretch
After four nights of smelling like chemical cherries in my garage? Got something resembling art. Used silver metallics for lettering – Jefferson Quero’s signature style, turns out. Spent twenty minutes just doing the Q’s tail curling like a lizard tongue. Added glitter clear coat because why the hell not. Hung it above the workbench. Does it look exactly like the Instagram post? Hell no. But when sunlight hits those metallic bits? Chef’s kiss.
My takeaways from this madness:

- Cheap spray paint is false economy
- Glitter permanently lives in your nose hairs
- Sometimes ugly phases birth cool outcomes
Still finding blue speckles on my dog’s fur. Worth it.