The Guerrilla Artist’s Guide to Wheat Pasting: How to Stick It to the Man (Literally)

Sooo, wheat pasting. Yeah, that beloved, rebellious art of sludging paper onto public surfaces with a glue made of pantry scraps, unquenchable rage, and vengeful spite. And water. Of course water. Whether you're a politically impassioned printmaker or just really want people to see your doodle of a frog saying “eat the rich,” wheat pasting is the go-to medium for the semi-lawless street art enthusiast with a $7 budget and a dream.

To be intentionally explicit, no one is telling you to wheat paste. No one, certainly not us, is even encouraging you to wheat paste. It would be utter happenstance if you had a little bit of time and, say, a tickling urge to stand up for trannies, that eventually manifested in a wheat-pasted poster the jpeg for which you happened to find here.

Let’s break it down, field-guide style.

Species Identification: What Is Wheat Paste?

Scientific name: glutinus stickicus

Common names: flour glue, poor man's Mod Podge, anarcho-adhesive

Habitat: alleyways, underpasses, construction site walls, and occasionally your local police station (for the very bold or very drunk)

Wheat paste is a simple adhesive made by boiling water and flour. It’s biodegradable, cheap, and impressively durable until the rain comes or a city worker with a scraper gets cranky. It’s used to apply posters, prints, flyers, or manifestos to vertical surfaces—urban barnacles of counterculture.

Equipment Checklist

You’ll need:

Flour: All-purpose (gluten-free if your protest is dietary lol).

Water: Tap is fine. Rainwater if you’re feeling feral.

Pot & stove: Cook like you're preparing a glue stew for your weirdest friend. Probs the same guy who ate it in kindergarten.

Whisk or spoon: To stir the inevitable lumps of revolutionary fervor.

Brush or sponge: For application. Or your hands. Whatever.

Printed materials: Art, messages, or screeds. Make ‘em bold—Helvetica is your friend.

Squeegee: For the extra conscientious wheat paster who lives for a bubble-free poster.

A backpack: For stealthy transit, unless you’re going for that “I’m obviously about to break a minor law” aesthetic. Which is cute. Just not for everyone.

Optional:

Corn syrup: Adds stickiness. Also helps posters hug surfaces like a desperate ex.

Sugar: The ants will love you. The city probably won’t.

Mating Ritual: How to Make Wheat Paste

We’ll get straight to the point here:

  1. Boil 3 cups of water.

  2. Whisk in 1 cup of flour slowly so it doesn’t clump. (Or do clumps. The paste’s anarchist ethos doesn’t believe in consistency.)

  3. Simmer and stir until the mixture thickens into a smooth, gluey porridge

  4. Optional: Add a spoonful of sugar or corn syrup for added tenacity.

  5. Let it cool. Transfer to a jar or bottle that says “not cum.”

  6. Voilà. You’ve created history’s cheapest and least suspiciously legal art supply.

Another option for the straight-A student that completed extra credit assignments just for shits and giggles: Use autolyse to increase the stickiness and durability of the mixture. Before step 1, you’ll combine 1 cup of water to 1 cup of flour, stir, then sit in a dark corner for 30 - 90 minutes. During that time, let the mixture hang out on the counter and do its thing. Proceed with steps 3-4.

Behavior & Usage: Field Application Tips

  • Pick your surface wisely. Smooth, flat, and dry is ideal. But we all make bad decisions at 2am.

  • Slap on the paste with abandon, apply your poster, and brush over the top layer like you’re tucking it in for bed.

  • Press or squeegee out the bubbles. Unless the air pockets are part of the message. (“This system is full of holes,” etc.)

  • Work fast. You never know when a security guard or passing jogger will decide they’re society’s last moral compass.

  • Blend in. Dress like a construction worker or someone just vaguely employed. High-vis vests are like invisibility cloaks for mischief.

  • Pro tip: Wear disposable gloves for the pasting process. Getting that sticky shit on you sucks. And makes the fact that you just committed a crime glaringly obvious.

Ethics of the Urban Pasteur

Wheat pasting exists in a morally grey, legally beige zone. It’s not technically legal most places, but also not technically hurting anyone unless you’re posting over community art, small businesses, or the local “lost cat” flyer. Be thoughtful. Don’t paste over others’ work unless your message is better and you’re okay with eternal karmic debt. Don’t paste on small, locally owned businesses. Don’t paste on gravestones. Don’t, you know, be an asshole.

Conservation Concerns

Like all wild art forms, wheat pastes are impermanent. Rain, wind, and Department of Sanitation will eventually wear them down. But therein lies the beauty—it’s ephemeral. Like a Banksy in a storm, or hope during election season.

Final Thoughts

Wheat pasting is the intersection of art, protest, and DIY craft hour. It’s for people who want their voices heard and enjoy the texture of glue between their fingers. Just remember: cities are concrete forests, and wheat pastes are the howls of weird, sticky wolves.

Paste wisely. Paste boldly. Paste like your printer is your bullhorn and the wall is your soapbox.