A silent conversation with a grasshopper was my introduction to art, that came out on paper as a pink hollyhock. A whole two blocks from home I sat on the steel rails of the train tracks that ran along the junkyard. I could see the crane with its fingers, like steel pincers, grabbing car parts and old rusted ice boxes. Lifting them, and other metal things, and then dropping them into an open top railroad car. Along the corrugated steel fence a few hollyhocks managed to grow and they were the first subject of my first venture out to draw. Mom did say, “go draw something,” I’m just not sure she meant for me to cross High Street and head to the foot of Pigeon Hill to draw hollyhocks, I was just 5 at the time. That was the start of my passion for art.
Drawing the hollyhock and watching the hand of the crane rise up over the fence with its load of interesting things, I was joined by a large grasshopper who seemed to take an interest in my drawing. He sat on my arm, munching on the tall grass that leaned into me. My drawing drew his attention. Twice he hopped to it and returned to my arm and the tasty grass tickling it. I would have brushed the grass away but I liked his company and he liked the grass so I sat there drawing with a grasshopper on my arm. The giant steel hand rose again and again, dropping car parts into the train car. Where did all that junk go? Where would my new friend spend the night? Or would he become dinner for one of the blackbirds hanging around…? The grasshopper looked up at me; I'm sure he was saying it was time to go home.
I watch a bike dropped from the steel hand and a red wagon. My drawing, even with all the distractions, was coming along. Only the heat was getting to me. A thirst for a glass of cold water was the real distraction. I closed my sketchbook and said goodbye to my friend. Threw a rock into the pine trees scaring off the blackbirds to give my friend a chance, and started up the hill to home. At home, I checked under the back porch to see if my red wagon was still there. Mom asked how my drawing was and I showed her my drawing of the hollyhock. The rest of the story is mine. 70 years now and that story is still in mint condition.
