"my first night of painting the broadway and calaveras wall, and i feel like i never faced a tougher opponent. my eyes are swollen and my body aches way more than i think it ever should. Josh was right; downtown is haunted. trees look like zombies and you get the sense youre always being watched. when you walk, you feel like someones following you. out of the corner of your eyes, you see ghosts. when i went to put aways the scaffold at night (for the first time), i felt as if i was going to vomit, (i managed to get it up and down two driveway ramps, and through a fucked up gravely parking lot) and into the the warehouse. whilst inside, i felt like will smith in "i am legend". i felt as if some fucking zombies/mutant humans were waiting for me to turn my back so they could pounce on me and eat my brains. exhaustion turns into paranoia."
*****july 25th-ishhhhh*****
"on whats probably the fifh day of working on the mural i feel like shit. ive dranken a five hour energy and had lays potato cchips to hold me over through the night, along with about 2 gallons of water that i drank because this morning i woke up in the studio, (i slept there after monday night's painting session) and i had to take a piss. so i found an empty water bottle and began secreting amber fluids, when suddenly, i felt light headed and dropped the bottle of piss and went face first into my bag-of-rocks-futon. i woke up a minute later, realizin that i had just fainted and found a puddle of urine on my studio floor.
the suns starting to lighten the skies from a deep purple to a lavender/pink. my stomach growls a "fuck you" to me because i havent eaten since 8;30 last night. Its a fucking ghost town out here. i feel like im alone in the world, the radio being the only thing that keeps me at ease. I feel like a fucking ghost, especially when people drive by and i cant see who it is driving because its so dark, but they just fucking drive by. they dont slow down, or stop by to say "hi" or "good job", even if they say "that sucks" would be cool and make me feel like im not invisible. I see people walk by all night. people that fucking missed their ride home, people that just fuckered somebody, people that just got fuckered, people that probably passed out somewhere and woke up not knowing where they are".
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this mural took about 2 and a half weeks, i continued writing in my sketchbook just about everyday, though the writings start getting a little repetitive after a while; just alot of self loathing shit, rants about how much i hate everyone, and how lonely i was. kinda boring. so im just putting up the two pages above, so you get the taste for it.
bob photography and amber williams (respectively) came out and took professional lookin' photos, way better than my ugly fucking camera phone photos.
also, i got a little lazy on one of the last nights i was out there, and i didnt put away my paint, i just left it on top of the scaffolding, the parking lot in which the mural is located is fenced in, and all i had left was house paint, and 2 buckets of empty spray paint (i dont know why i kept it, i have trouble throwing shit away), so i thought, no biggie. the next day, i climb the scaffolding to continue working, and all the spray paint got fucking stolen! what? EMPTY CANS! and they left the buckets! i dont get it.
anyways, i rushed to finish cuz i was starting my residency at the fresno art museum not to long after. the mural measures roughly, 150 feet by 25 feet.
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(photos by amber wiliams)
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