Juliet Ames pulled her blue hatchback into a Remington gas station, heading past the pumps to the far corner of the lot. There, scrawled with graffiti and streaked with rust, was her target: a pair of long-forgotten pay phones. “I do this part in the car so that it’s a quick hit,” said Ames, 42, sticking a thick strip of double-sided tape to a sheet of bright yellow corrugated vinyl. “People don’t usually say anything to me. I’m actually normally a rule follower.” With a quick glance to see if anyone was watching, Ames sprang out of the car and affixed the yellow sheet inside one of the phone booths. She stepped back to admire her work.
History calling: Baltimore artist adorns abandoned phone booths across the city
September 9, 2022