Take it to the wall. This is something that I have done for over thirty years..take it to the wall.
The wall for me has always been a place of healing. A place where I could be messy and let the paint drips fly and my never easily managed hair tangle with the paint and the wind. There is a silence in front of a giant wall. There is noise. The noise of the cars and people and screeching tires, with the constant beep of the pedestrian timers. There is wind and wonder and ice cream coloured smudges on your legs and hands. There is knowledge and meditation. Fear is not around you as you perch from high up on scaffolding. If you could but open paint layer wings and reach the reason most artists seek for the injustices in the world. There is much to learn as a muralist and observer from the wall and much to say.
It is a play and a movie. It is time captured in stories and in the people that entered and left the screen. The wall has been the movie screen to my life.
It follows me like a tattered friend. The surface rich in textures and warmth. Tales of chewed gum and belly laugh hysterical easy days of sun and sprinklers in downtown streets. The art of a muralist is a play. A screenplay.