Elfo isn’t wrong, as they like to say these days.

This photograph shows the phrase “You can remove graffiti with Photoshop” sprayed in plain white aerosol lettering on a wall in the countryside.

Elfo isn’t wrong—but he isn’t quite right either. The statement hinges on where graffiti is most often encountered today: on brick and concrete, or on a glowing fluorescent rectangle in your hand. Conceptually, this is not a new kind of irony, but the choice of text and its placement sharpen the point. In a misty, ivy-covered scene like this, an Italian cow would have more jurisdiction than Photoshop.

The work quietly acknowledges a shift in authorship and erasure—from paint removers and municipal cleanups to crop tools, filters, and deletion. Yet here, far from screens and scrolls, the sentence sits stubbornly in the landscape, where digital tools have no authority at all. The result is less a joke than a measured contradiction, asking whether graffiti now lives more durably on walls—or in pixels.