Antony Micallef got me into Banksy.

I came across a painting of his for sale on ebay that I liked but couldn't afford.

After some research I found the forum and fell for Banksy and Dface etc.

My first Banksy was a Napalm.

The person who sold it to me on ebay literally wrapped it in one layer of brown paper and sent it by parcel force.

The postman was even less pleased than I was when he knocked on the door with a jingling package of broken glass.

Unbelievably there was not a scratch on the print.

I came to London mid 99 and was living in Bridport place near Old st.
I always been in the Graffiti culture and I liked the few Banksy s in the area.
Still kicking myself for not buying 3 signed prints in selfridges for £75 each few years later.

Oh well lol

14 years after this statement… I can share it with ease.

His Art is wonderful.
We will never stop talking about Banksy. In a few years... someone will still share these words.

W BANKSY

I was living in London from 97 - 04 and would see his work on the walls near where I lived. Then a read a piece in Time Out about P.O.W. so looked it up and went from there. I bought a couple of signed Banksy's for £150 each. I wanted to buy more but my wife said "two is enough for now" Ha!
I sold the prints to pay for my wife's 4th and final I.V.F. treatment, it was the only way we could afford it. After 3 failures, a close run thing with the 4th, we finally had some good news. My son will be 13 next week.
Do I regret selling my Golf Sale and Gangsta Rat, not for a minute. Although I do wish that I would have bought a 3rd to still have on my wall. C'est la vie.

Amazing story!  Happy 13th to your Son! 🙌🏻🙏🏻

You've all got these great stories involving London, Brighton, alleys, mine's quite boring.

Back in 2007 I worked in a comic shop. One day this guy came in, dragging this huge suitcase behind him. We would often have people bring things in to try and sell to us, so I wasn't too concerned. Once he'd caught his breath, he opened the case and inside, amongst other things, was a reasonable selection of Spider-Man comics. Some quite good stuff.

The man explained how he was planning to become a Buddhist monk, and that he needed to sell everything he owned so he could afford the train and bus fair to the temple in Wales. And how every penny I could offer him would help on his spiritual journey.

I was young at the time, so completely believed him, about the whole monk thing. But, looking back, he was almost certainly a burglar. Along with the comics, there was quite a bit of silver in there, as well as some ladies underwear.

Anyway, I purchased the comics, and wished him all the best with his new life in Wales.

Later on I found tucked inside one of the comics, the Jimmy Cauty print from the Pax Britannica set. I had no idea what it was at the time, but it was very cool and I liked it. I looked it up online, saw the other artists involved, saw Banksy's contribution to the set, and that was that. I became a fan.

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Not my introduction to Banksy, but I remember this one time, at Dismaland...

It was on my second trip there. The first time I was there, when I got off the train I was so excited I did some sort of primal little wiggle of happiness. My back spasmed, trapped a nerve and I was in so much pain my body did an emergency bowel movement.

Anyway, second time I was there, I got off the train and thought, I'm not being happy this time. I'm not shitting my pants again. I was queuing for general entry, and I'd been in the queue for a good half an hour or more. Possibly 45 minutes, wouldn't be surprised if it was an hour. Snaking back and forth, back and forth. Suddenly someone taps me on my shoulder. I look 'round and it's this old guy, easily in his 80s. He's standing there next to a lady who I presumed to be his wife, also in her 80s.

I thought he was going to ask me for the time, or maybe ask if he and his wife could cut in front of me, because of their age and weak legs. I was just getting ready to say no, when the guy asked, "Excuse me. Do you know what we're queueing for?"

I told him it was to get into Dismaland. The Banksy show?

He looked confused, turned to his wife, she looked confused and just shook her head. He then said that he and his wife had been walking along the seafront, saw the queue and just...joined it.

I chatted with the guy a bit more, and neither he nor his wife had heard of Banksy before. The old man chuckled, with a laugh that sounded like a couple of dice being thrown down an old stairwell, and said, "Well, we're here now." - and they bloody well went into Dismaland.