Hi, I’m Sebel. Born in 1978. When I think back to my early days, the first thing I see is the village where I grew up: long paths, lots of emptiness, and somewhere in between this urge to leave traces behind. 1997 was the year it all began.
Back then, we were just a few kids with curiosity and too much energy. We stood at bus stops, in underpasses, somewhere in the middle of nowhere—and practiced our first tags. My name was “Noron.” The buses that took me to Hamburg became my first adventures. When I think about it today, I see the fogged‑up windows, the shaking old seats, the feeling that the world was bigger than I thought.
In Norderstedt, I joined my first crew. We felt invincible—until one action along the railway line went wrong. I remember the cold air, the adrenaline, the crunch of gravel under our feet—and how I was the only one who got caught. A night at the police station. Neon lights that never turn off. A lot of time to think. After that, I knew: the illegal path wasn’t for me.
But graffiti doesn’t just disappear from a person. It stays like an echo.
Through another crew, I met people from Lüneburg, and later I connected with more crews. We were on the road a lot. We painted legal walls, we sketched together, we laughed a lot. When I think of that time, I see sketchbooks that were never really clean, hands covered in paint, and nights that ended too quickly.
Then came a quieter phase. Secondary school diploma, technical diploma, new cities, new apartments, training, work, and kids. Life became more adult. But every morning on the train, headphones on, fineliner in hand, that familiar feeling was still there. Drawing was my anchor.
In 2016, I suddenly found myself standing in front of a wall again. I still remember how the can vibrated in my hand, how unfamiliar everything felt. I had to relearn everything: proportions, lines, patience. I was strict with myself—maybe too strict. But it was exactly during that time that I found my style. Not perfect, but honest.
Through Facebook, I found my way back into the Hamburg scene. An old contact took me along to a jam. I remember the sound of cans, the laughter, the hugs from old friends. It felt like someone had opened a door I had long forgotten.
Crews mean a lot to me. They’re not just letters. They’re stories, people, memories. Through a friend, I joined the B2B crew, originally from Chicago. That connection, that history—it grabbed me immediately.
In recent years, I met many new people through Instagram and legal spots. I went to jams, worked with many others, and met several legends. The Hamburg scene is small, but it has heart.
Then old friends from the CSM crew reached out again. A WhatsApp group, a weekend at Sher’s place, a few pieces together—and suddenly it was clear: CSM is alive again. Sher and I have been on the road together a lot since then. When we paint, it feels like falling into a rhythm you never really lost.
My most recent stop is TNS – The North Stars. Reor had been asking me for a long time if I wanted to join. At some point, the moment was just right. I’ve known many of the members for years, and Sher is part of it too. TNS is old, founded by Reor’s brother, and I’m proud to be part of it.
That’s my story. Or rather: the part of it so far. Graffiti never really let go of me. It shaped me, accompanied me, challenged me—and kept calling me back.
