Bamba and the townscape

This is the street artist Bamba. For a couple of weeks now he’s been standing at the top of the High Streetbeith his easel of an evening, painting the are of town formerly known as The Cross. I believe that there used to be a market cross there. For a while Bamba was surrounded by school kids, and the police drove ostentatiously around the pedestrianised street in their cop car, obviously thinking he was Up to No Good ( a black artist! In Stroud! Heavens, the town must be protected!) but nowadays they have accepted that he is, in fact, an artist, painting the town. Do I think they would have got out their car for a white artist in a smock and peaked cap? Probably not, but the cop shop is next door, so maybe if they were really bored….

Today I went to the park after work, to sit by the lake and eat ice cream, and as I went back up the street I saw Bamba still painting, so I went to introduce myself and ask about his painting. He told he that the bright colours of the people represent the goodness that is in people, and that most people are good, but that there are some human rats. ‘Rats don’t do no harm in the wild’ he added, and I told him that my cat had brought in a dead rat, and that it had looked very sweet,. Oh, but you forgive her’ he said, and I acknowledged that I do, because she is a cat, doing what cats do.

That was the third slightly surreal conversation I’d had today. The other two were at work. It’s the nature of my job.

I haven’t been blipping because I’ve been tidying my study. Progress is being made. I have been throwing myself at it in any spare time I have. Last Thursday I showed the contents of about 40% of my craft cupboard to a GCSe student, and she took a small bagful of stuff. Then I showed it to a friend, and she took two items. Then a childminder came round, and took some paints. Someone else asked for an item for a tombola. A flip chart pad was pledged. Drip, drip….

Then I struck lucky with a couple who run a Sunday school at a church in Stonehouse. They came into the house and hoovered everything up. They’d have taken everything, even the table and chairs, if I’d offered them. They didn’t mind what the equipment was, just stuffed it into bags like old ladies at a jumble sale in days of yore. I was so grateful to them! I’ve even asked them if I can contact them if I find any more stuff to recycle. I will….

Thr good news is that I now have space to make collages, four weeks after I attended the class. I made one today and one yesterday, I have a book with some explanations of design principles, so I’m just trying something different each time. A bit like practising a musical instrument: nothing great’s expected yet, but I do have fun while I’m doing it (do musicians have fun while practising)?

So that’s me. I’ll try to catch up again, in my newly found burst of creativity .