There is a quote by Goethe that I have always identified with , " From the heights of ecstasy to the depths of despair." this exactly sums up my last few months in California. An ex's deviant cousin traveled to Ca and needed a place to stay, with me unfortunately. This is where the sky turned grey. This is where things spiraled downhill.The first of many unfortunate events. The beginning of the end. This is when the SHIT hit the FAN.
His name was Frank. I now think of him as Skank in my mind; whenever horrific thoughts strike me unaware out of nowhere like a sharp and stinging slap. Tall and muscular with a stature much resembling a greek god,Frank seemed to be a nice man ,albeit covered in tattoos. I later found out most of them were received serving prison sentences which when added equaled 12 years.Frank drank alot and popped any sort of pill he could find. But he was quiet and cleaned alot around the house. Having a huge house and yard all to myself, it was nice having a man to take care of all the things men usually do.He quickly became like a brother to me and brought his young girlfriend out from Il , and they shared the room down the hall. All of this part was good, the only failing being I was starting to guzzle alcohol right along with Frank.
One day I decided to teach Franks 18 year old girlfriend Meisha (he was mid 30's) to drive. I'd been taking care of her for awhile now and waiting on her hand and foot,financially supporting her.I didn't like her much, but she's someone's misguided daughter. Teaching her to drive would free up alot of time for me.We drove down Marguerite and some saferside streets and stopped at the Shell for Pepsis and Payday candy bars.
We were driving home and I was nervously buckled in the passenger seat. I swear I had my foot pressed down hard on an invisible brake.Meisha was driving ok though,and my opinion of her was softened by her childlike excitement and sheer jubilation at driving in California. This was big to her.A cute girl,she was smiling ear to ear and telling me of her plans to become a famous actor in LA.I smiled and cut her off, reminding her we were almost home and she must reach up onthe visor and open the garage door. I was nervous about her pulling in, but it was a two car garage and she did marvelously. I will never forget her face as the garage door opend slowly. It was evening out and the sun was sinkingmthat glorious SoCal twilight. The overhead garage light came on and cast a yellow shadown across her face,lighting up her pretty blue eyes. She was smiling wildly at me and said " Did I do good?" through her bubble gum pink glitter lip gloss. Her long honey colored hair was blown about in an attractive way and her excitement was endearing. As soon as the car was in park and the garage door began to fall the door to the house opened and Frank appeared shirtless and wild eyed. His chest was heaving and I could tell one look from his eyes that this was not Frank,not himself, a demon. His long muscular arms weretensed and all of his muscles were bulging. He strode quickly to the driver side of the car and reached through the window and punched the girl in the facce as if she were a full grown man, wordless. She began screaming,"what did I do ". I got out of the car and screamed, get in the passenger seat and lock it. Thankfully I am good in emergencies and unfortunately I have had prior experience with things of this nature,witnessing domestic violence as a young child. But this wouldntdo for as she slid into the passenger seat he grabbed her hair and pulled her back and out through the window.
He was shaking Meisha like a rag doll and hitting her over and over as I stood there ,shocked. This was maybe 4 seconds. I grabbed his pants loop and pulled him off and she ran and crouched against the garage wall,bleeding. He turnedand looked at me, put his face to mine. His eyed were wild, evil. In a voice I did not recognise he said " IM YOUR WORST FUCKING NIGHTMARE.IM KILLING THIS WHORE AND IF YOU DONT WATCH OUT ILL KILL YOU TOO ." With this he struck me across the arm and shoved me to the floor. Distraction gone, he walked over to Meisha and with booted feetbegan to kick her. She curled in a ball on the concrete floor, trying to protect her head and stomach. These are the only parts he was going for. I seen a knife hanging out of his back pocket. no one could hear us, except maybe coyotes. Meishas screams permeated my brain. If he continued punching and kicking her in the face and chest she would die. I had to do something and quick.
I am going to start posting pictures of my art below, it is broadly ranging. I am amateur still and teaching myself, so do not judge me too harshly.
This set below is very beautiful and I cannot capture it in film. Its abstract and each time I look at it, it becomes something else. I see so many different things in onepicture. I think this is the definition of art. This particular set of canvas, I made not with paint brushes, but with painted boobs. mine of course.