You may not know Adam Vargas, but you’ve probably seen his work.
Better known as “Atomik,” the graffiti artist is famous (or maybe notorious) for a signature character that resembles Orange Bowl mascot Obie. Vargas spent a good part of his life tagging his creation on the streets, and it can now be found on T-shirts, baseball caps, earrings and more, as well as across the exterior walls of his 10,000-square-foot warehouse studio.
“You see Atomik, you see his oranges, his trademark icons everywhere, but he’s someone that earlier on in the nineties was ... doing really great advanced work,” said Alan Ket, co-founder of Miami’s Museum of Graffiti. “Although people might know him now as someone that paints this icon, in addition to that he is an accomplished [artist].”
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Atomik’s studio at 3100 NW Seventh Ave.
The Museum of Graffiti was established in 2019 in the heart of Wynwood. While its exhibitions change every three months, Atomik souvenirs, including gray hoodies and black long-sleeved crop tops, can always be found in the gift shop.
”He has painted with the best and has really good style,” said Ket.
Vargas was born in 1981 in South Florida’s suburban Kendall neighborhood, where he started drawing in the first grade. He also enjoyed climbing neighborhood rooftops, so it should come as no surprise that he was drawn to graffiti. His first elementary school graffiti art used the tag name APV, initials that stand for his full name, Adam Paul Vargas. Not long afterward, he was kicked out of middle school for tagging.
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Graffiti artist Atomik has segued into commissioned murals, like this one located at 174 NW 24th St. in Wynwood, created in 2019.
He expanded his creative horizons by continuing to spray-paint while a student at Miami Killian Senior high. After freshman year he transferred to Western High in Davie, where he completed his high school education. A friend gave him the tag name of Atom at age 15. Vargas changed that to Atomik two years later and it stuck.
Drugs, graffiti and girls were his main focuses throughout high school, from which he was kicked out at one point for drug use.
“I was kind of a knucklehead and not really the best student,” Vargas said. “But I graduated.”
He went on to attend the Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale, where he received a bachelor’s degree in graphic design. He then worked as a freelance artist and an employee at GTC Media, also known as ClubFlyers.com, for about 10 years, but became bored with the monotony of a regular job.
“My heart wasn’t in the profession anymore,” he said.
In 2003, Vargas joined a graffiti crew known as the Miami Style Gods (MSG), which was founded in the early 1990s by a group of local artists. Two years later, he and some friends established another crew called 28. The name is a nod to Miami-Dade County’s police dispatch code for vandalism. Before joining, hopeful members had to tag 28 times. The crew would check out the work, then decide whether to welcome the artist into their group.
But it wasn’t until 2008 that the signature orange figure that would become synonymous with Vargas’ work first appeared. Trouble was, it resembled the 1989 version of the Orange Bowl’s mascot, Obie.
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Atomik’s signature orange character appears atop an MSG mural at 2417 N Miami Ave.
An Icon Is Born
“When I painted the character, it was to memorialize and pay homage to the Orange Bowl, ’cause I would go to football games and other events there,” said Vargas. “So when they knocked it down, I did a piece with my name and my friend’s name and did the character in the middle and [added] the year it was built [and] the year it was demolished, and I just kept on going with it.”
The Orange Bowl Committee sent a cease-and-desist order later that year. It demanded Vargas stop using Obie graphics, which by then were being sold on shirts. He immediately pulled the merchandise off the market, then quickly made several changes to his design, replacing the orange’s crown with a stem, placing a teardrop on the side of its face and adding a chipped tooth to brighten its smile. Obie’s nose-to-lip connection and Pacman eyes remained, chalked up to artistic liberty.
The changes meant Vargas would avoid legal action, but when you’re a tagger, getting arrested is an inevitable part of the territory.
In 2016, Vargas traveled 90 miles south of Florida to Cuba to meet with an acquaintance, 5Stars, to talk about their mutual love of art. They roamed the streets of Havana tagging walls amid run-down movie theaters and hotels, but then a government “chivaton” (snitch) reported them. Police soon showed up and ushered 5Stars into a police car.
“Yo, you can’t let them take me,” the Cuban citizen told Vargas. “They might lock me up.”
Vargas didn’t hesitate. He jumped into the back of the police car next to his friend.
“This is my guy,” he told the cops. “I’m not going anywhere without this gentleman right here.”
5Stars was released with a ticket.
Then there were the 15 arrests in Miami-Dade County. The first, a charge of criminal mischief, occurred when Vargas was 15.
The longest he has spent in jail is one week. Records show he was taken into custody on a technicality related to a past case and held at Metrowest Detention Center in Doral.
“I’ve sat in jail and been like, ‘This sucks, I don’t wanna be here. Is it worth it?’” he recalled.
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Artist Atomik, né Adam Vargas, autographing a photo of himself inside his studio in 2019.
Becoming “Legit”
Vargas and a friend, Alex Vahan, established Cushy Gigs Creative in 2010. The outfit’s Twitter bio says it “specializes in hand-painted murals, original illustration, graphic design, and silkscreen printing.”
In 2012, Vargas was commissioned to create a mural on Calle Ocho that reads “Welcomes you to Little Havana.” The work, for which he was paid $9,500, was sponsored by Preferred Care Partners, Medica HealthCare Plans and AARP Medicare Plans from UnitedHealthcare. It features dominos and other symbols of the neighborhood, but no cigars.
“Health care companies don’t really promote cigars and tobacco, and that’s kind of a staple when you think of Havana,” Vargas said.
The mural took him three nights to complete; Chase Bank, located next door, didn’t want him to work during the day. The mural, which does not include his signature orange character, forced Vargas out of his creative comfort zone.
“I don’t usually paint like that, so to know I’m capable of doing something on that level is pretty gratifying,” he said.
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Atomik spent three nights painting this immense mural on Calle Ocho near SW 27th Ave. It’s since become an emblematic touchstone of the neighborhood.
Another gratifying moment came in 2012, when a friend, Emily Marckioli, commissioned a painting. Four years later, she and Vargas tied the knot.
Vargas debuted his first solo website, adamatomik.com, and web shop, atomik.bigcartel.com, in 2013. Traffic grew over time. Today, approximately 103,000 people have visited the web store, which has reeled in more than 2,200 orders and delivered $118,000 in revenue, not including purchased original or commissioned art.
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Vargas’ iconic character, rendered as sculpture.
The graffiti artist and now muralist adapted his signature orange icon to sculpture in 2017, through a collaboration with Oliver Sanchez, founder of Swampspace Gallery in the Miami Design District. The piece debuted in 2018 at Miami’s Hausammann Gallery.
“[Sanchez] made [that piece] for me, and then he left the face smooth so I could come and paint it and it could be a true collaboration,” Vargas said.
He now wants to learn how to make handmade sculpture and develop digital models for three-dimensional figures. He recently began making vinyl toys and is anxious to delve deeper into that market.
As a muralist, Vargas’ body of work is growing with the help of collaborator Camnut, an up-and-coming Miami graffiti artist who recently joined 28. They have been painting side by side for more than a year and have created 10 murals together. One of them is at 250 NW 23rd St. in Wynwood.
The artist occasionally still runs afoul of the law, but he’s intentionally a lot more careful now.
“Now that I’m a father, it’s completely different,” said Vargas, who bought a home in Cutler Bay in 2017, the same year that he and Emily welcomed their first child, a son. A daughter joined the growing family in 2019.
Vargas’ passion project this year was painting white wings with an orange background on the south side of his warehouse, as a tribute to his late friend, Ynot – real name Jonathan Corso – who was killed after being run over in the parking lot of a Davie nightclub after a fight.
“That was in memory of Ynot, who passed away on his 21st birthday,” Vargas said. “And just recently, it was the tenth anniversary of his dying.”
Turning somewhat introspective, he shared some of his goals for the next three years: tightening up his studio practice, owning an organized warehouse unit and painting 10-story murals. Travel, too, is always at the top of his to-do list – even after visiting six continents – but more important to him now is being available when his children need him.
“My kids are always going to require guidance and my presence,” said Vargas. “My time, my love, [and] a lot of my life revolves around them.”
This story first appeared in Florida International University’s South Florida Media Network.