It reminds me of something between the mini-steam engine at the zoo and the monorail at Disneyland with an old-school Star Wars feel to it. Sounds kind of cool, but the reality is that our neighborhood train line is basically a joke. It seems like some kind of city project to say.
"Hey, we put this transit line in the bad part of town, see how much we do for the underprivileged."
When it really seems like we just got the budget version of all the other light-rail trains in this city.
Everyone in our apartment complex was excited at first, and some people still are, but I started to get suspicious that our trax line was somehow less than other lines I've seen. The first clue was they put down just one line of track. I couldn't figure it out. Then, I noticed they weren't putting up the crossing arms that prevent traffic from hitting the trains. There were no crossing gates on the smaller cross streets of this single-track line.
I kept waiting to see another line go in and those candy-cane arms get installed and it never happened. This let me know that our line was going to be different and I was pissed, I still am, because there are so many kids around here that it makes no sense why they wouldn't install the swing-arms and I was wondering about the single track.
Then they started testing the trains on the single line and I realized this train won't run as often and it will have to go back and forth on that one track,
"No importa, ellos son pobres, tienen tiempo." Once I saw the first train on the track and I thought,
"Oh, that's just a test-train." because these trains looked different than the other light-rail trains. Wrong again, it wasn't a test-train, this was the train we'd get. It's smaller, slower moving, faux high-tech, and it moves on the tracks in a jerky, clumsy way.
Nobody else seemed to notice, they were just happy to get the ghetto line. The city named it the South Salt Lake Trolley making it seem chic, rather than a rip-off, I could keep going on about it, but it doesn't do any good.
When I went out to do something about my frustration, I realized this slower moving train was better for us urban artists, the slower train = longer viewing time for the captive audience. As they say, "When you have lemons make yellow paint." I needed to scout out walls along the new tracks for our future galleries.
A new hope entered my being when I made my first trek along the rails and there were already artworks up on the primo walls of the ghetto chu-chu museum. I now realize that all that time and energy I'd spent lamenting our budget line of the public transit system could be better spent making art.
But maybe that's my process, I have to go through a buildup of frustration to get out my art supplies or my journals and create! It seems like it's about process and the first step is finding the right place. So here I am following the tracks looking for the wall space that will become my canvas.
As I approach the first wall, I see all the positives first: tan brick, perfect location for viewing from the chu chu, and easy access. But I'm confronted with the issue of space, because I won't put my work over another's. This is actually a good problem because it means this art space is alive.
With space issues I always try to come up with a creative way to find space because there's plenty of wall space out there, but the problem is getting to it. Usually a small stepstool or ladder will do the trick.
I usually use a disguise to get access to good wall space. Anything from fake window-cleaning props or house painting white overalls with paint all over them. If you look like you're a worker people usually don't suspect a thing.
I've never gone out in a black hoodie with a backpack because that'swhat people think a graffiti artist would wear. So planning my outfit is partof the process too. Once, I found this wedding dress at a thrift store thatthey were basically giving away and I've used it as one of my "artists' smocks";but you can only pull those off once or twice cause the word gets out thatthere's a graffiti artist in a wedding dress.
YOU ARE READING
MC Quixote
General FictionThis story is about a fifteen year old moving from Mexico to the United States with her deaf father. She experiences many challenges and turns to writing songs and creating music to overcome the difficulties of moving to a new culture while growing...
