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06/28/2001 Entry: "Sidewalk Artist, King Eyes and a Cowboy"
The image of the eyes of a young woman I saw drawing with colorful chalk on the sidewalk last week while panhandling with her mohawked boyfriend looking on has returned to me daily since then.
Last Thursday evening, as I walked past Taco Hell (Or was it Ruby's favorite shoe store?) to meet with a friend for a near date experience at Beckett's, I walked past a young woman drawing with chalk on the sidewalk. She looked up at me with deep brown eyes that later reminded me of family and asked for "spare change" as I moved distractedly past worrying about how my evening would go with "C." As I stood nervously waiting for the appointed time of my rendezvous, I reflected on the look in the artist's eyes and looked over and saw her interacting lovingly with her boyfriend. I wondered if she might be related to me somehow. Could she be one of the consequences of my father's philandering or some other distant relative? I figured it was more likely that she was of some ethnic background that shares the dark eyes of my Cherokee heritage. I wondered if she was okay. I wondered if she and her boyfriend were living outside or "just" kids from the Berkeley Hills panhandling for cigarette/drug/beer money....knock, knock, knock - I was startled by the sound of "C" tapping on the window of Beckett's to get my attention from inside.
Later, as I walked home, I looked down and noticed the beautiful, colorful chalk drawing on the sidewalk and regretted not having stopped and acknowledged and appreciated it to her when I hurried past earlier. I wondered if I would see the two of them again.
Saturday, I walked up to People's Park briefly for free music in the park. As I walked up Shattuck I noticed some chalk drawing that was a tribute to the loss of someone named "Megan" as a result of a drunk driver. I wondered if the Artist had drawn this? Was this somehow why she was out there with her boyfriend? It reminded me of my nephew's struggle with the loss of his best friend, Gavin, a little over a year ago. In the end, I decided that this probably was not her art, it had a different sort of power to it, but was simpler. I walked on to the park. I promised myself, I would acknowledge and appreciate the drawing if I ran into the two of them again and to give them some money.
Walking home, along Telegraph Avenue, I passed a group of young, punkish people panhandling for beer and drug money (at least that's what one of their signs said). A young woman looked up at me and said; "How 'bout you? Spare any change, cowboy?" I laughed, but walked on wondering if I look like someone to be addressed as "cowboy." Later, I wondered why I hadn't just given some money to that young woman and her friends. I chastised myself for being too "attached" to the image of the Artist, her eyes and her friend. [Not being buddhist enough, Drew! Let go.]
Yesterday evening, as I walked downtown, I came upon a young woman drawing with brightly colored chalk with a young man seated next to her and a cup with change in front of them. I asked if they had drawn on the other side of the street last week, they looked up and smiled, seeming to appreciate my having noticed and said they had. I thanked them and dropped some money in their cup. The Artist thanked me and I walked on feeling a bit awkward and hoping they will be okay and not wanting to intrude, but wanting them to feel cared about.
