Mural at Hell's Gate

Austin Blasingame is an artist based in Los Angeles. He helped organize the murals at Dia de Luz 2009, alongside fellow artist Patrick Maxcy.



"Hell's Gate" is the name given to the entrance of La Chureca, a trash dump community in Managua, Nicaragua. Passing through "Hell's Gate" is like entering a portal, everything in your mind goes blurry and it feels like time stands still. There is a telephone line, marking the entrance, hanging about 15 feet above ground, displaying burnt toys, shoes and junk. The visuals are unlike any place I have ever seen. There are numerous fires filling the air with smoke and ash, garbage piled high: medals, cow bones, plastics, and men that look like they have been at war for days; they are covered head to toe with miss-matched clothing, bandannas covering their faces, and spears - unapproachable. For a full year I had wild and mysterious thoughts about "Hell's Gate," and was eager to step foot back in.

Tuesday morning, 9:30. I am one of 11 packed in a mini-van, windows shut and conversation evaporating as we turn the corner to see the familiar fires and activity at the entrance of La Chureca, "Hell's Gate." I actively scout the grey surroundings, taking everything in, conditions of the walls, health risks, ten workers (five younger males and five older), all glancing towards our vans. I feel precarious, yet determined. I spot a wall, 100 feet long, every inch blackened by smoke and dirt.


Wednesday morning, 10:45. I am eager to get back to the wall after a long day of service inside the dump and only a few hours of sleep. Our group is large, and once again we are in mini-vans, only this time six of us exit the vehicles to set foot in "Hell's Gate." A middle aged worker, Luiz, is there to greet us. Brad Corrigan talks with him, takes my sketchbook and shows him the image I constructed, a montage of three stellar photos taken by photographers from the previous year, main image of worker shot by Luiz Maximiano. The local man seems to approve and moments later we are ushered into a cement factory, which exists on the other side of the enormous wall-none of us even had a clue it was there. The owner/manager reviews the sketch, asks us what our intentions are and after a few minutes of our broken Spanish, he approves. So far so good, Patrick Maxcy and I begin to brush the wall down, getting rid of 5 layers of soot and dirt. It is all happening so quickly, I can't believe it. I ask myself, "Is it really this simple, no harassment. Is it going be this smooth? No way." The workers (10) linger about 20 steps back. What is going through their minds?

Because of the raw conditions of the wall and lack of preparation on the surface I am resorting to spray paint-the only medium that has a chance of sticking to the surface in a timely manner. The first strokes are down, the wall barely taking the paint, as it fights years of scum. I haven't a clue to what move I am making next, other than creating some abstract design that feels appealing. It is a "speed problem"... an act of spontaneity. I pick out the three most vibrant colors of spray paint that I found at a local hardware store the night before (brands I had never seen or used) and just start going off. The color gives life to the wall, workers gather, some with looks of confusion, others screaming slang (can't understand,) while others sit and admire quietly on the opposing wall, all while our crew moves about in various directions just taking it all in. Dump trucks fly by, smoke from assorted tire fires fill my lungs and irritate my eyes; the wind is constantly arousing weightless material, paper and ash, which is building a black mass on my skin.

Two hours fly by and the owner of the wall offers to feed us a meal, amazing. Not only were we allowed to paint, spend time in the most anticipated part of La Chureca, "Hell's Gate," but we are being served food, what a blessing. I show every bit of appreciation by eating with dirty, gnarly hands and drinking what tastes like sweet water, out of plastic bags, kindly handed to each of us by Luiz. Lunch consists of rice, beans and chicken, hard to stomach after seeing dump trucks full of fleshy, scarlet cow skulls and kids gnawing on dumped, spoiled meat bones; None the less, I eat all the food. I am eager to get back to painting. Patrick decides he is done painting at lunch, so I am faced with the wall solo. The sun blasts my neck and legs as I continue to cover the dingy wall with bright pinks and oranges. We are getting constant encouragement from the workers and other Love Light and Melody members are having fun putting paint on the wall on the right side of Patrick's letters. I am noticing the workers are diligently cleaning all the trash up all around us, what a mind shift. To think a year ago we never would have even stopped a vehicle in this area, and here we are painting a wall and chilling with the workers of La Chureca. I finish off what I can on the wall then Matt Katsolis and Will Tant pull me aside to do an interview, potentially for the daily habit on Fuel TV.

Thursday 10:15am. I decide to execute my original plan right next to the mural done the previous day. My sketchbook had been passed around and talked about amongst the locals the day before. I sensed a feeling of anticipation from the workers to see the montage executed. The workers seem to be entertained by us and are acknowledging my efforts with smiles and nods. Today, "Hell's Gate," is the cleanest that I have ever seen it. I feel a sense of pride at arrival this morning. Luiz is happy to see us. He is covered in white paint facing the white, gleaming wall, sun directly overhead.

Jeff assists me with the grid lines (blue chalk hardly visible on the rough texture). The white part of the wall is 7 x 23 feet. We grid it out in 8 squares, two vertical by four across, then I go to town, with black and white in hand I lay down the skeleton for the mural. I am so focused mentally in order to put down correct shapes, proportionally accurate to the scale I am working that I forget where I am. I love this about art. I know I will not finish the piece, but I work right up until the concert at 2pm.

I feel like I accomplished my goal of breaking the tension at the gate and that is what means the most in my heart. I do want to finish the work I started and I hope to be back on a plane over there really soon!
Love one another and think positive!