An artist who draws or paints on the street– and who expects to survive– learns of necessity to develop a kind of radar, an early warning system. An indoor studio is a space you can control; it has a door you can close, and if necessary, lock. Out on the street however, you’re vulnerable to whomever is passing by, to someone who simply wants to strike up a conversation, or to offer a critique of your painting, or of your life– or of their life. Or perhaps they want to harangue you about whatever might be bothering them, or if your back is turned, to sneak off with some of your brushes or your water bottle or a couple of tubes of paint.
Read More
