Austin's Story
4/27/2008 | posted by AB | 0 Comments
Austin Blasingame is an artist based in Los Angeles. He organized the production of a 70'x12' mural in the trash dump at Dia de Luz 2008, alongside fellow artists Patrick Maxcy and Kelli Murray.
The group that arrived Monday, about 1/3 of us, roughly 25 people, gathered in the courtyard to share words. It felt like everyone was frozen for the first few minutes as Brad began greeting us and welcoming us to his home away from home. The tension eased with every word Brad spoke. A short time after, I was called upon to speak about the mural, which I had been invited on the trip to help create.
I spoke about my passion for the arts, and how Dia de Luz was about connecting with the local people, and not about a perfectly executed piece of work, how it was more important to make the kids feel that they were a part of the production, that their hands and minds would mold the mural, that street art is about being in the moment. Art changes, taking a different shape everyday. I talked about urban decay and the beauty it has in a community, layers that build over time, art getting covered up, new art taking over and leaving traces of old - a metaphor of life itself.
I jumped in the back of a truck with my camera. We flew down the streets of Managua, hitting several speed bumps and dodging huge pot holes, getting confused glances from traffic and commoners. The dump, La Chureca, was 8 or so miles from our hotel. The entrance was scary, 5 burnt teddy bears dangling from a telephone line like shoes in the US, small fires, middle aged men, faces covered with bandannas, with pitchfork- looking tools in their hands, picking through the garbage.
Trash got thicker, the smell of tires and rotting garbage grew exponentially as we continued into the dump. Egrets posed far off to the left, and vultures loomed well over the highest peaks of waste. Hot pink, teal, green and yellow colored plastics scattered the land. We passed by the first 20 or so piecemealed homes, each one less than 25 square feet and 5 feet tall, some with light bulbs dimmed, others with running water, but all surrounded by heaps of trash and smoke.
I caught eyes with some of the people, each seemed as if they were looking through me. I felt no acknowledgment, just blank looks on their faces as if they had seen a ghost and never been right since - numb, I felt. I could only relate it to the feelings I had while reading Stephen King's series, The Dark Tower - The Waste Lands. I felt like I was in the city of Lud, a place empty and foreign to my mind, yet intriguing.
The truck stopped all of the sudden and Brad jumped out. The rest of us sat waiting, wondering, each breath harder to take in. My lungs wanted to reject the smoke. A girl ran out of a barb wired metal home and jumped into Brad's arms - "Mercedita," he called out. Spanish flew back and forth. He stared into her eyes and I heard words but didn't understand what was being said. Tears welled up in my eyes. Her coffee-colored skin only peeked through the finger streaks which cut the black soot on her face. Her once bright clothing, now dulled and tattered, no longer fit, and her hair was matted, but she was beautiful, and all of us in the truck were frozen.
A naked boy waddled out shortly after, and Armistead jumped out of the truck to embrace him. "Rey," I heard him say. Following his lead, I felt the urge to get as far away from the truck as possible and close to Brad. The life was precious, the kids magnetic, dirty and smelly, yet extremely clean. Each of their eyes glossed over. It looked like a tear would drop at any moment, but it never did. Smiles emerged from all of us as we began to melt into this world, all reservations put aside. I was in total disbelief of what was in front of me and around me. As I threw Rey in the air and saw him smile, I melted. I repeated this action and squeezed him, the dirt leaving marks all over my white shirt. I was in, no longer on the outside - somehow I felt at that moment that I was part of this place.
A group of us wandered about 100 yards up a mountain of trash, a few people burning their shoes, even skin - pockets of hot ash and material went into flames all around us - combustion, chemicals and gases hidden under fresh dumped trash. At this point, the smell had overtaken the senses, and I felt me eyes tear. All I could think was, how can anyone live here. This was just the beginning.
The sun was going down quickly and we jumped back into the truck driving towards a school that sits a safe distance away from the meat of the dump. Several kids were curiously peeking out to see what we were doing as we roughly drove past, some smiled, others frowned. Animals were all over the place: cows, dogs, birds, chickens, all in horrible health. Emaciated cows stood eating plastic bags with snot strings stretching down to the ground. The truck stopped suddenly, Brian jumped out and took several photos of a dead pit bull lying like a stuffed animal amongst the trash with one leg hacked off- disturbing to say the least. The photos online from previous visits were brought to life, my senses overwhelmed, confusion and sadness took over as we retraced our tracks, exiting the same way we came in.
For the next 4 days I would enter the dump before the sun rose and leave after the sun set. Each visit was a different experience, each time I learned more about myself. I dug deeper within to understand why, how. I tried hard to connect with God and with everyone around me. Smiles and hugs: you couldn't give enough, and surely not receive enough in this place. There were times that I felt more at peace in the dump than anywhere I have ever been in my life. This disturbed me, but made me realize a lot about humanity.
As I look back on it now, I feel that I was forced to break myself down into the simplest form of life for that short time, which would have never happened at my lake front home with clean, heated, running water and nonstop media distractions. The face of advertising and all government corruption was exposed in these hours of enlightenment. My connection to nature - a disturbed nature - evil nature, made me sick, but I could see far off into the distance - beauty and hope, stars and light. Many times I felt helpless, I still do. These people need us and we need them. It is a balance of life - the reason we live, growing to be better people, to learn and live out our dreams to help the clouded mind be clear again and the darkened ground turn green.
The group that arrived Monday, about 1/3 of us, roughly 25 people, gathered in the courtyard to share words. It felt like everyone was frozen for the first few minutes as Brad began greeting us and welcoming us to his home away from home. The tension eased with every word Brad spoke. A short time after, I was called upon to speak about the mural, which I had been invited on the trip to help create.
I spoke about my passion for the arts, and how Dia de Luz was about connecting with the local people, and not about a perfectly executed piece of work, how it was more important to make the kids feel that they were a part of the production, that their hands and minds would mold the mural, that street art is about being in the moment. Art changes, taking a different shape everyday. I talked about urban decay and the beauty it has in a community, layers that build over time, art getting covered up, new art taking over and leaving traces of old - a metaphor of life itself.I jumped in the back of a truck with my camera. We flew down the streets of Managua, hitting several speed bumps and dodging huge pot holes, getting confused glances from traffic and commoners. The dump, La Chureca, was 8 or so miles from our hotel. The entrance was scary, 5 burnt teddy bears dangling from a telephone line like shoes in the US, small fires, middle aged men, faces covered with bandannas, with pitchfork- looking tools in their hands, picking through the garbage.
Trash got thicker, the smell of tires and rotting garbage grew exponentially as we continued into the dump. Egrets posed far off to the left, and vultures loomed well over the highest peaks of waste. Hot pink, teal, green and yellow colored plastics scattered the land. We passed by the first 20 or so piecemealed homes, each one less than 25 square feet and 5 feet tall, some with light bulbs dimmed, others with running water, but all surrounded by heaps of trash and smoke.
I caught eyes with some of the people, each seemed as if they were looking through me. I felt no acknowledgment, just blank looks on their faces as if they had seen a ghost and never been right since - numb, I felt. I could only relate it to the feelings I had while reading Stephen King's series, The Dark Tower - The Waste Lands. I felt like I was in the city of Lud, a place empty and foreign to my mind, yet intriguing.
The truck stopped all of the sudden and Brad jumped out. The rest of us sat waiting, wondering, each breath harder to take in. My lungs wanted to reject the smoke. A girl ran out of a barb wired metal home and jumped into Brad's arms - "Mercedita," he called out. Spanish flew back and forth. He stared into her eyes and I heard words but didn't understand what was being said. Tears welled up in my eyes. Her coffee-colored skin only peeked through the finger streaks which cut the black soot on her face. Her once bright clothing, now dulled and tattered, no longer fit, and her hair was matted, but she was beautiful, and all of us in the truck were frozen.
A naked boy waddled out shortly after, and Armistead jumped out of the truck to embrace him. "Rey," I heard him say. Following his lead, I felt the urge to get as far away from the truck as possible and close to Brad. The life was precious, the kids magnetic, dirty and smelly, yet extremely clean. Each of their eyes glossed over. It looked like a tear would drop at any moment, but it never did. Smiles emerged from all of us as we began to melt into this world, all reservations put aside. I was in total disbelief of what was in front of me and around me. As I threw Rey in the air and saw him smile, I melted. I repeated this action and squeezed him, the dirt leaving marks all over my white shirt. I was in, no longer on the outside - somehow I felt at that moment that I was part of this place.A group of us wandered about 100 yards up a mountain of trash, a few people burning their shoes, even skin - pockets of hot ash and material went into flames all around us - combustion, chemicals and gases hidden under fresh dumped trash. At this point, the smell had overtaken the senses, and I felt me eyes tear. All I could think was, how can anyone live here. This was just the beginning.
The sun was going down quickly and we jumped back into the truck driving towards a school that sits a safe distance away from the meat of the dump. Several kids were curiously peeking out to see what we were doing as we roughly drove past, some smiled, others frowned. Animals were all over the place: cows, dogs, birds, chickens, all in horrible health. Emaciated cows stood eating plastic bags with snot strings stretching down to the ground. The truck stopped suddenly, Brian jumped out and took several photos of a dead pit bull lying like a stuffed animal amongst the trash with one leg hacked off- disturbing to say the least. The photos online from previous visits were brought to life, my senses overwhelmed, confusion and sadness took over as we retraced our tracks, exiting the same way we came in.
For the next 4 days I would enter the dump before the sun rose and leave after the sun set. Each visit was a different experience, each time I learned more about myself. I dug deeper within to understand why, how. I tried hard to connect with God and with everyone around me. Smiles and hugs: you couldn't give enough, and surely not receive enough in this place. There were times that I felt more at peace in the dump than anywhere I have ever been in my life. This disturbed me, but made me realize a lot about humanity.
As I look back on it now, I feel that I was forced to break myself down into the simplest form of life for that short time, which would have never happened at my lake front home with clean, heated, running water and nonstop media distractions. The face of advertising and all government corruption was exposed in these hours of enlightenment. My connection to nature - a disturbed nature - evil nature, made me sick, but I could see far off into the distance - beauty and hope, stars and light. Many times I felt helpless, I still do. These people need us and we need them. It is a balance of life - the reason we live, growing to be better people, to learn and live out our dreams to help the clouded mind be clear again and the darkened ground turn green.
0 Comments | Post a Comment