The sidewalk is filled with people walking by, ignoring
everything and everyone around them. A woman’s face looks down at me. Her hair
is all sorts of different colours and her eyes show signs of sadness. She
stares at me, unblinking. A giant piece of artwork for everyone to see, but no
one notices. I take a quick picture with my camera and tuck safely back in my
bag.
 |
| A Woman by David Walker |
Suddenly, the
woman winks at me and shrinks down to face me. Her body is a black outline and
her hair flows in the wind as she beckons me closer. I move towards her,
cautious at first, but then more confident.
“Hi,” I say, “Who are you?” She remains silent, still
beckoning me closer toward her. I move closer, still a bit careful. Suddenly,
she starts running away, her dress flying behind her and her bare feet thumping
on the sidewalk. I follow her quickly, trying to keep up with her pace.
She leads me to a corner street where two cartoon boys
are playing basketball. She runs up to them and whispers in their ears. They
both look at me in and drop their ball. It bounces on the grey sidewalk and
rolls down the street leaving a trail of orange behind. I want to go after it,
but the boys stop me, shaking their heads.
One turns to his friend and says something inaudible. His friend laughs
and they all run off down the street.
I follow them again;
curious to see what was so interesting that they would just abandon their game
of basketball. The colourful woman leads the way as we pass dozens of bare grey
walls. As they run past them, they leave splashes of colour. Bright pinks and
blues and purples. I watch in awe as the colours mix with each other and start
forming shapes. Some of them get up and dance around while others just flop
down and change shape.
We finally reach another wall with a ballerina, all
dressed up in her tutu and up on her tiptoes. The two basket ballers stop and
try to copy her, one on either side. She abruptly breaks and looks at both of
them with burning disgust. They put their hands up innocently and hide behind
the colourful woman. The woman says something, using her entire body to convey
her message and the ballerina’s expression softens. I try to lean in closer to
hear what they are saying, but they notice and start running away again.
“Wait,” I say, “I’m not going to hurt you.” I follow them
again as the streets get quieter and the walls more colourful. Where could they
possibly be going?
I finally catch up with them on a deserted warehouse
wall. At first, it’s just the four of them talking. The ballerina going spins
and the basketball players trying to show her some hip hop moves. Then more and
more people start some. Some outlines of strange creatures, others silhouettes
of lovers and even a blue owl. I watch in amazement as SpongeBob and a
Victorian industrial worker share a refreshing drink with a rainbow
unicorn. Charlie Chapman starts tap
dancing around everyone and I can see distinctive black shoeprints being left
behind by his shoes. He tips his hat at me and I bow gracefully. I watch as
more and more characters arrive. Before I know it, the dirty grimy warehouse
wall is magical blend of colours and imagination.
I pull out my camera to take
a picture of the fantastical scene happening before my eyes and just as the
camera flashes, the image captured forever, the wall is grey again. Everyone
has disappeared and I am left to wander the streets alone.
 |
Top left: Ballerina (artist unknown) Top middle:
Girl (artist unknown) Top Right: Three Old Men
(artist unknown) Bottom Left: Well-dressed man by
Nick Walker. Bottom Right: Blue Owl (on a wall in Atlanta) |
Author's Note:
I seem to have a lot of these notes at the end of my essays, but sometimes I feel it necessary to tell you where I get my inspiration from and how one thought could lead to another. "Wild Beauty" was a topic given in our English creative writing exam. I had written on a different topic, but when I was thinking about the topics later on I thought of this as a descriptive. So, ten at night, I Google searched "street art" and I drew inspiration from the pictures above. I wan't originally going to post this, but I decided to give it a try. I've always been fascinated by street art ever since I saw a mural at the end of Cowey Road in the Berea, Durban. Every time we go to visit my dad's mother I know I'm going to see that wall and every time it's a different painting. I have no idea who paints and if it is the same person every time, but it does put a smile on my face. It's always interesting to hear people's views on Street art, some say it isn't an art form and people shouldn't do it, where as others, like me, believe it to be a way of beautifying a dull world. That's what I tried to capture in the essay above and really hope I succeeded.
