The notion of meaning in Nihalani's work is as nebulous as the nature of his artistic material: industrial tape. Unlike other street artists who leave residue of their activity after its removal (glue, color), Nihalani's works completely disappear. He navigates a fine line between vandalism and littering that even the cops don't know how to deal with. "So far no arrests," he says sounding relieved, "though last week I had a couple cops pull up while I was doing a sidewalk piece saying they got calls about suspicious activity. They made me take it off, and said, 'Take it to the park.' I think it is regarded as marginal by both sides, a kind of polite graffiti. But I've heard of detainment for chalk 'graff,' so I dunno sometimes with these guys."

He tells me he can spot a good location by the colors and architecture of a place. Instinct drives his work and, like Poster Boy, there isn't any premeditated planning; he prefers to riff off the vibe at the site where he works. "There are the times where a scenario catches me, a platform violinist, a preaching panhandler, a sleeping drunk. Honestly there are too many to do. I think that goes for most street artists," he says.

Nihalani thinks most people, with the exception of a few in uniforms, like his work. Only when he invades someone's space, like when he "boxes" in a person sleeping on the street, does he attract cautious, sometimes negative, attention.

"I want to bring something new to street art, or rather, I want people to get something new from street art. Not just a sight seeing game, but a physically, intellectually, and emotionally engaging opportunity. I think I try to highlight the possibilities in my documentations at www.aakashnihalani.com," he says. "There's a certain magic, I've found, about working in collaboration with the street environment, making aesthetic decisions in the middle of a piece, in the middle of the street."

Poster Boy, Shows I'd Watch, instllation view. Via the aritst.

"As a painter I had a lot of frustration with the hermetic, formulaic life of paintings -- studio to storage. The tape gives me a chance to let my art live, I get to feel the effects of what it means to make art. I don't have to have a relationship with a gallery to reach people. I mean, I think the tape, as a medium, has a ton of aspects that allow me to work differently, freer, in more places. But I'll never stop painting on canvas."

Coincidentally, the two street mavericks started to collaborate earlier this month and have started producing, in true street art fashion, combo pieces that are a departure for both New Yorkers.

"I fucking love his work," Nihalani says about Poster Boy, and the feeling is mutual according to the latter. "I met Poster Boy a few years ago while I was in school... we shared a creative imperative that art could, and should, be made anywhere and everywhere. After we both broke out of the studio to make art, we started planning a collaboration, and we finally just got around to doing it. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and the results. We're planning the next session."

If the general wisdom in the street art scene is that the golden age for the genre has passed, Poster Boy and Nihalani are proving that it may only be the rules of the game that have changed. A new breed of street artist is creating art that resists commodification, objects that live on democratically as images on the web. Their messages might be literal or abstract but their appeal is universal.