Over the years life has been happening beneath my studio window; the window that inspires me and lets in the light that makes my paintings. Some days the sounds outside bring me to my window and I get to see a different town, that I call home.
Mike, a fisherman, caught fish every morning and afternoon below my window, and released each and every one of them after taking a picture first. Big and small mouth bass, catfish, and sheepshead. All felt Mike's hook, some several times. Fishing kept Mike and others on the straight and narrow. They lived up the hill at the Mission, where you are expected to give up drinking and smoking and maintain a Christian life. It was nice having my morning chats with Mike and his friends.
Lou, another fisherman, fished for his dinner. Sometimes he kept his catch in the city fountains. City workers could not figure out how the fish from the river got up into the fountains. The fountains were a source of entertainment for me. One Sunday morning, Danny, one of our friendly homeless gentlemen, decided the fountains were a great place to wash up. Stripped to his shorts, he climbed in and took a rather cool bath. The police came but did nothing, they let Danny finish and go on his way. As long as no one called and he did no harm to the fountain they let him continue with his bath.
It isn’t always harmless fun below my window. A few fights broke out over who finished the beer and sometimes teens thought it would be fun to get one of the light poles swaying to see if the glass fixture would tumble down.
Kim, who posed for me, often brought sandwiches and bottled water for the homeless who sometimes hung out around the building. Once she had a parade of men up to use my microwave for a hot meal. That was a real surprise opening the studio door to her knock and seeing 4 homeless men with her. I explained to her my landlord did not want these men hanging around and doing their business behind the dumpsters behind our building…
I remember my mother feeding hobos who came to our backdoor. Kim had my mother’s heart. When Kim posed I knew she'd bring something for the men downstairs. Two pizzas one time, a box of danish rolls another time. Karyn, another model, did likewise. Not so much as Kim, but she found ways of helping the homeless.
I have always tried to keep the outside world out of my studio, but sometimes models made me look at the world below my window. I remember a young couple fighting about how much money they lost at the casino. They sat on a park bench arguing about losing $1,500 and what the other was thinking. That was the same bench Danny, wrapped in trash bags, slept on during a terrible rain storm. That was the same bench someone tore from the ground and tossed into the river…
