Consider the traffic control cabinet. An unassuming, generic gray box emblematic of homogenous urbanity—the office cubicle of public infrastructure—and easily ignored when out for a stroll or a drive. Yet while most of us view them as dull mundanities fading into the cityscape, others see a blank canvas. In Houston, graffiti, wheatpaste posters, and stickers frequently adorn these cabinets, adding a creative DIY flair to the city’s aesthetic.

The Mini Murals initiative takes this concept and stretches it into a citywide project involving dozens of local artists and the 400 utility cabinets (and counting) that bear their visions. It launched in 2015 with a pilot project of 31 boxes, spearheaded by Elia and Noah Quiles of UP Art Studio. Some of the first features included iconic Houston street artists DUAL and Wiley Robertson, the multidisciplinary Alex “Zú” Arzú and Shelbi Nicole, 3-D painter Lee Washington, and Sebastien “Mr. D” Boileau, with whom UP had previously collaborated on Préservons la Creation, the iconic Midtown mural that spans an entire city block.

Préservons la Creation “opened up our eyes to fundraising for public art projects,” Elia Quiles says. “It was such a huge success. We were looking for the next project that we could do that could have a big impact. I started doing some research, and I came across utility cabinets being painted literally all over the world. And I thought, Oh, why don’t we do this in Houston?”

What followed was a series of meetings with Houston Public Works, the Houston Arts Alliance, and the Mayor’s Office of Cultural Affairs, with the late city council member Larry Green of District K as one of its most vocal champions.

The murals proved to be a huge hit, and more council members hopped aboard the opportunity to add more vibrancy and character to the neighborhoods under their care. UP operates the Mini Murals through a combination of open artist calls and specific commissions. Covering a wide swath of imagery, themes, and styles, the paintings have one common through line: they help craft and anchor a sense of place, reflecting elements of the neighborhood around them. For example, the mural by Gelson D. Lemus (a.k.a. w3r3on3) at Airline and Link pays tribute to El Bolillo Bakery and Golden Seafood next door, as well as the original mercado that became the Houston Farmers Market across the street, with colorful depictions of conchas, fish, crawfish, and fresh produce.

Renee Victor kept a nearby school in mind when designing her first of five Mini Murals. Located at Bellfort and Glenlock, it sports an orange background festooned with playful paper airplanes. 

“You can remember being a kid and daydreaming or being bored in school and you’re thinking about planes and flying things across the room while the teacher’s not looking,” Victor says. “I like that one especially, because it was like an homage to imagination.”

She notes that initiatives like Mini Murals serve as a civic beautification effort in a city that often lacks some color. They also have the potential to heighten community awareness of serious social issues. Both of Victor’s contributions to the Crosstimbers area pair rich, bright colors and images of native flora with the contact information for the National Human Trafficking Hotline. These pieces are located in spots where human trafficking is more commonplace, and the decision to include the information came at the residents’ request.

“The community wanted a safety reminder for people that might want to get help, or go through some form of rehabilitation. It’s very springtimey and very feminine and very whimsical, but it’s also reminding passersby in the area that there’s a number for you to call if you need it,” Victor says.

Mini Murals also help preserve hyperlocal history. In Montrose, where the extensive LGBTQ+ legacy continues to get chipped away, several of the murals place queer history front and center to ensure it doesn’t get lost. Blacksmith coffee shop now inhabits what was once the legendary gay bar Mary’s, but the Scott Swoveland mural that was removed in 2012 survives in part on the utility cabinet out front, courtesy of Jessica Padilla and Carlos Alcaraz (a.k.a. Empire Houston).

Monica Roberts, activist, educator, and founding editor of TransGriot who passed in 2020, graces the Mini Mural at Montrose and Fairview—right in the heart of the city’s gayborhood. The memorial is the work of Katharine Ligon and Brad Pritchett, who wanted to ensure that her indelible impact on fighting for trans rights and building a warm, welcoming LGBTQ+ community for all never goes forgotten.

Roberts “really had a tremendous influence, particularly with HERO here in Houston back in 2015,” says Ligon, who knew her personally. “She was very gracious in her willingness to talk about her perspective as a Black trans woman working with the Texas legislature, particularly trying to ensure that her rights and those of the LGBT community were not forgotten and stomped on.”

Ligon and Pritchett have received an overwhelmingly positive response to the Roberts memorial mural, with friends eagerly sending the artists photos of it whenever they walk or drive by.

Victor feels the same way about her paper planes mural. People would sit and watch her work while painting, and before she moved to Los Angeles two years ago she’d enjoy the sight of pedestrians admiring her murals.

“I’d see little kids with their parents walking to school down the block,” she says. “They’d look at it. You think of school as all of this work sometimes as a kid, but it can be creativity, too. It was cool to maybe spark a light for them as they’re on their way to grow.”

Fortunately, Mini Murals’ popularity and devotion to community growth likely won’t stop anytime soon. As Quiles points out, there are about 2,500 utility cabinets in Houston, providing plenty more opportunities to brighten the urban cityscape we live in.