Otherwise known as Bay Blade Stadium during the day by my and my boyfriend's kids. It's a big creepy parking lot behind the liquor store I walk to at night to just feel sad. My kids are asleep, finally, and I'm exhausted and well finally kinda happy. So I don't want to lament in a home that makes me so happy a good place finally a safe place, Fran keeps an eye on the kids while I step out.
I walk to my praying place, the Place of the Skulls: because its kind of a shitty neighborhood, I wouldn't walk with my kids at night unless I had to, plus it's new, all new neighborhoods are shitty at first. Anywhere can be good and bad in different ways. Let's be honest Michigan is pretty broke, what's a nice neighborhood anymore.
My apartment in Louisville KY, my building got raided by the cops one night I was out with my Wolf Beast and four cop cars flew up to my building and cops rushed in like madness. I stood still holding Wolf Beast's leash tight, so his not so clever dog ass wouldn't jump at a cop. Wolf Beast hates cops and rightly so biggest dick to him was the son of a cop...stories for other times.
I wasn't to concerned my kids where asleep and even tho I was outside the building I was right below there window and they where out peacefully, Brett inside most likely playing on the laptop. I always stood there, it had become my spot, and having doing nothing wrong I watched what the police where up too, without attempting to hide my curiosity.
It was my spot to stand because in our first summer there, I opened that window in my kids bedroom wide and the walls where thin brick. I could from my children's room hear bad conversations, dark conversations, dangerous to ear hassle in on conversations. I became fearful for my kids, sleeping with thin walls, so I'd let people know I could hear them after a while I'd cough and look out the window you know let you see me let you know I heard you then once they where startled and eye contact was made. I'd smile and wave, like I know what you just said. A strong decent man even when caught doing wrong respects that mom that loves her kids, even in those bad situations. Everyone always sees me as that lady with the dog and a bunch of kids, shit I'm like the den mother for my two kids and than eight random wild children playing outside because they don't want to be home either. So at night on nights off from my retail night stock job because it really was safer for me and I could guard my children I'd stand outside my apartment building across the little drive that was under my children's window and listen to the radio playing in their room, and smoke for hours. I didn't care I just wanted to keep my children safe, and with that the fearlessness kicks in, mixed with a little madness.
You met amazingly interesting people standing outside all night, I never sold drugs, but everyone asked. I'd be honest, tell them no, be nice, they'd be sheepish than curious why I'm standing by the road at three am. I had many replies, "I just needed a cig. It's such a nice night. I'm night owl. I'm high. I'm just chillin. Dog had to shit." I never said the truth, "I don't want people fucking around being stupid too close to my children, and Brett wouldn't hurt the kids, but me I was just safer outside, with the meth addicts, the drug dealers, the guy who fought pits,the beer drinking Hispanic guy who always winked at me, and the girl who did coke too fast too soon. All a saver companion than Brett was at the time.
It's ok tho, we all have dick moments. Anyway, people got used to seeing me and I became familiar, I no longer guarded my children from the outside world, now I stood outside to just hide, and I think the outside world around me knew, and let me hide. The guy the cops dragged past me in handcuffs and about five automatic weapons in a bookbag, was always nice and held open the door for me and my kids, and called me mam. He looked at my face as he was hustled roughly by, and said, "Pray for me mam I may need it." I told him I would, and I hope he's okay. I meant it, because I loved that neighborhood.
I'm Sorry. If I was ever a dick to anyone, it happens, the point is I'm trying. So one rule I have for myself is;I try to say hello and be nice to everyone, it's manners and sometimes it's little things, that make big effects. I do outside works, it means I set aside time in my artist work schedule for drawing or paintings of places. I love old buildings, when I get the money I will visit Louisville and paint in the West Side Where the Catfish Restaurant smells like heaven all day, and a homeless man circles you on a rusty bike yelling, "I've got flashlights for sell, What you need? What you need?" I'll smile kindly tell him, "A fried catfish, steak fries with vinegar,whole lot a salt a diet coke, box of newports short and some fucking quiet peace of mind to paint. Oh and maybe a cheap quarter. Thank you friend."
Than I'd give him a hundred dollar bill and let him keep the change. If he rips me off at least I saved the poor mans life. Because when I want to work paint I want to be left be, and yelling about flashlights while circling me as I try to paint is a mistake. I'm sure I don't want to see the utube video; "Crazy artist attacks homeless man!".
Kids are the exception however, I love when a child is curious about art. I feel joy in that. Art is the first to be kicked in the knees when the budgets need trimming. If it be 2D, 3D, Music, dance,writing, science, sport, whatever the art form how will children find there passions if the schooling is unbalanced? Little children, lower income children, look at you like you're a crazy alien being with intense wonder when you set up an easel. I like churches in Detroit, I love churches, even spooky abandoned ones, I've yet to enter one, but I'll stand out side one and walk around taking pictures. A good charcoal of a creepy church, that's my idea of heaven.
Recently while working on a charcoal one chilly damp kinda crappy day, and two young boys raced across the street at me, like they were on fire. I was terrified, while the road was packed with car traffic, No foot traffic had been seen on all day accept a possible care taker who was watching me in the church parking lot but it was a Monday and the church wasn't opened, and he let me be, because I'm in the middle on a crappy looking neighborhood with an easel for three hours in bad weather. So now two maybe eight or ten year old boys race at me crossing the busy street . "What are you doing lady?!" "I was so upset that they ran across this crazy busy street to be curious, that they got a ten minute rant about how dangerous streets are. I'll admit I can get a little crazy, but I did tell them thank you for looking at my work and I got two promises to never run in the street as they ran back into the street laughing at the crazy lady. I'm more careful driving since seeing those two boys. I like being outside, and I love art...I plan to combo it baby. To be continued.
